


Downtown Eastside

by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles)



Series: Downtown Eastside [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Gay Relationship, Developing Relationship, Drug Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gang Violence, Gay Sex, Hurts So Good, Lots of rain, Lust to love, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Murder, Neither lead do drugs but it's a part of the world, One Night Stands, Police, Police Brutality, Romance, Smut, Vancouver, Violence, so much rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 176,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_sprinkles/pseuds/Lemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are three rules to a one-night stand: Wear a condom, don't stay longer than necessary, and most importantly, don't get attached. Too bad Shepard was never one for following all the rules.</p><p> In fair Vancouver, where we lay our scene...</p><p> <b>Featuring artwork from the amazing Dakotaliar! (Chapter 1)</b><br/><b>Featuring artwork from the wonderful Fiishes (Chapter 7)</b><br/><b>Featuring an aesthetic board from the wonderful Officialjohnshep (Chapter 15)</b><br/><b>Featuring artwork from the incredible Shotce (Chapter 21)</b><br/><b>Featuring more artwork from Dakotaliar! (Chapter 33)</b><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [quietgold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietgold/gifts).



> This was written after watching too many movies about true love blooming out of ridiculous circumstances. It's basically a re-telling of Romeo and Juliet, just if Romeo was a poor gang member making his living in Downtown Eastside Vancouver, and Juliet was a well-to-do, educated young man who decides he needs to get laid and thinks inviting the stranger in the leather jacket and only a last name home is a good idea.
> 
> No idea how many chapters this will turn out to be, but I've already written out twelve chapters of this little beast and have no intention of slowing down! Thought I'd post the first chapter up to 'test the waters' as it were. Hope y'all enjoy!

They said everything looked different from the back of a police car.

 Things looked a lot different with your face slammed down on the hood of one, too.

 “Let me go, you fucking pig!”

 Shepard closed his eyes, light from the cop cars and Finch’s screaming making the cut on his cheek throb even more. A foot kicked his legs apart while hands gripped his wrists behind his back, holding him in place with a force Shepard deemed entirely unnecessary.

 He knew the drill—he knew what this was about.

 “You got any weapons on you?” the cop who was doing his search asked. Shepard grunted out a ‘no’ just as he was patted down, various bits and bobs like gum wrappers and crushed cigarettes pulled from his front pockets.

  _Bad day to wear skinny jeans_.

 “You can’t do this to me, you stupid fuck face,” Finch yelled from the car next to Shepard’s. Despite his strong words Shepard could hear the fear in his voice—how the ends lifted to take away from the bravado of his words. “I’m going to—to tell the media! This is—it’s—fuck, that was my hair!”

 He heard the familiar jingle of the handcuffs before he felt the cold metal slip around his wrists and tighten. Wiggling just a bit to test their hold, he was pushed down harder against the hood, the cut on his cheek opening up again.

 He hissed. He’d slammed face-first on to the pavement before, but it never got any less painful. Cracking an eye open he saw Finch getting shoved into the back of one of the cars, still kicking and screaming. Off in the distance there were rubberneckers being shooed away while a hooded figure with baggy jeans stood off to the side.

 Jack, probably. Here to get information and pass it on to the higher ups. Tell them all about how their precious runners were getting pulled in— _again_ —for a night of ‘cops need to make their quota’. Clenching his jaw, Shepard bit back the resentment and stood tall and proud when the cop pulled him up and off the hood.

 “He’s clean,” the officer said to the other as he was lead to the back where Finch was still yelling, mouth making movement but nothing coming out through the car door.

 “Didn’t find what you were looking for?” Shepard asked, smirking.

 His head almost hit the car’s roof on the way in.

 “Can you fucking believe this?” Finch said as soon as Shepard was inside with him. He was wiggling around, trying to get free.

 The cops hadn’t even bothered to move the cuffs from the back to the front.

  _Sons of bitches…_

“Calm down, Houdini,” Shepard said, shifting in his seat.

 “Calm down? We just got arrested for fucking nothing! I swear—once we get out I’m going to—“

 “Attack a cop?” Shepard interjected. Rolling his eyes, he sat forward. “They’ve got nothing on us and they know it. They’re going to detain us for the night and we’ll be out by morning. This happens at the end of every month, and you lose your shit every time it happens.”

 “Well it’s bullshit,” Finch mumbled. He’d stopped wiggling.

 “Yeah… yeah, it’s bullshit,” Shepard agreed.

   Glancing out the window he caught the eye of the person in the hoodie. Jack stared back, a smirk on her lips as he threw him the finger. Shepard glowered. She’d ran when she’d seen the cops arrive and managed to make it back just in time to feign innocence.

 She was either incredibly lucky, or incredibly fast. Both were probably true. Sighing, he rested his forehead against the bulletproof glass in front of him. He hadn’t been in a cop car for a couple of months, narrowly avoiding the monthly round-up each time. It was about time he got caught.

 That didn’t make the sting on his cheek go away, or the bitterness in his throat any easier to swallow.

XX

 Shepard had spent his fair share of time wasting time in a police precinct’s jail. Probably more times than was socially acceptable in polite company, but Shepard was lucky in that he never socialized with polite people in general. He wasn’t entirely sure he knew how. A life carved out of the shit stained streets of Downtown Eastside Vancouver didn’t offer a ‘respectable’ environment, and Shepard learned quickly that a pissed off disposition would get him farther than a smile and some well-chosen words.

 There were really only three routes a street kid’s life could take: drug addiction, prostitution, or petty crime. Turning to a life of addiction—either to the bottle or drugs—had never appealed much to Shepard, his mental faculties the only thing keeping him alive; prostitution had been easy money when he was younger and had no other option, but once he looked more like he would kill you than fuck you potential clients suddenly turned to less intimidating company; petty crime had filled a need, but a couple run in’s with mall cops and suddenly it became a liability Shepard wasn’t willing to make.

 But then there was the fourth option: join a gang.

 Shepard ran into Jack when she’d tried to steal his wallet. A couple of denials from both, an attempted swing from Shepard, and a kick to the dick and balls by Jack had landed Shepard in the company of the Omega gang leader—Aria T’loak.

 Aria was the toughest son-of-a-bitch in all of Vancouver. Sure, some gangs would claim that they were top dog, like the Blue Suns and Blood Pack, but when Aria founded Omega _no one_ fucked with her. Stunning in looks and personality, Aria knew how to charm and, most importantly, knew _when_ to charm. Mixing grace with street smarts and a business woman mindset, Aria dominated the drug trade in Downtown Eastside.

 Some would say she _was_ Downtown Eastside.

 She didn’t suffer fools lightly. She was strong; she was ruthless; she was power. Shepard knew all of this when he’d, quite literally, been tossed at her feet inside a nightclub. He half expected to be thrown into English Bay to rot with the fishes, his overactive teenage mind telling him this was the only way it could end.

 Instead she offered him a job.

 He’d get a sense of purpose; money; protection. All she asked was loyalty.

 And that was why he was sitting in jail for the night, cheek swollen, wrists chaffed by too-tight handcuffs, and a fucking horrendous headache doing the hustle in his head, with not an ounce of complaint.

 Too bad Finch hadn’t been given the same ‘loyalty’ speech.

 “She’s gotta help us get out. I mean, there is no fucking way she’s gonna keep us in here. Right?”

 Shepard sighed and rested his head back against the cement wall. Kicking a foot up on to bench, he began counting his molars with his tongue.

 “How long you think we’ve been in here?”

 Shepard didn’t answer.

 “Hey! Hey, Shep!”

 Finch stepped in front of Shepard, blocking his thrilling view of the wall. With the way he was bouncing around from heel to the balls of his feet, Shepard would have sworn he’d been taking in some of the product were it not for the fact that Shepard knew Finch refused to snort coke. He’d lost his mum to the drug when he was twelve, so instead of using it he sold it to some other junkie doomed to repeat the mistakes of his mother.

 Hypocrisy was a funny, fucked up thing.

 “What?” he replied.

 “You’re not at all worried by what’s going on? We just got arrested.”

 “We’re not arrested,” Shepard said. Sitting up straighter, he ran his hand over his face, immediately regretting it when he touched his cheek. “We’re detained for _one_ night. They’ll let us out in the morning. I don’t know why you’re freaking the fuck out—we’ve done this shit before.”

 “But what happens when we get out?” Finch asked, ignoring Shepard’s comments. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around the room like there were bees buzzing around them. Shuffling closer, he loomed over Shepard, unintentionally setting him on edge.

 “What if Aria finds out we dropped the package?” he whispered.

 Shepard quirked a brow. “What package?”

 “The package with the—”

 “What. Package?” he repeated slowly, sending Finch a sharp glare.

  _Jesus Christ he’s fucking dumber than I thought._

Finch pressed his lips hard together, making a thin line. Finally he sighed. Sitting down beside Shepard on the bench, he kicked his feet out, hands stuffed in his hoodie’s pockets. Sitting back as well, Shepard closed his eyes, prepared to get some rest. There wasn’t much else he could do sitting in a cement box for twelve hours.

 “I’m not cut out for prison,” Finch mumbled.

 Shepard breathed hard through his nose.

 “I mean it! I mean, prison for you must be paradise, but I can’t suck a dick to survive!”

 “Prison isn’t fucking paradise because I’m gay, Finch. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 “All’s I’m saying is that you know how to suck dick, so you could get like, protection or some shit. Suck the dick of the prison king or something,” Finch said. He pointed at his mouth. “See this mouth? Never had a dick in it. I’m going to be so fucked over if I go to prison. They’d shank me on my first day.”

 Shepard clenched his hand into a tight fist until his knuckles went white.

 Finch looked down at Shepard’s hands, and Shepard watched as his tiny mind furiously tried to think of a good method of backtracking.

 “I-It’s a compliment, man! I wish my girlfriend could suck dick as well as you probably do. I mean, look at your lips!”

 “Say dick one more time and I’ll shove yours in your mouth.”

 “Right. Right… okay… see, there’s the Shepard I know. Not the cool, calm, collected one you put on with those cops out there. Which was really great, by the way. Showed those dicks— oh fuck.”

XX

 “I heard you spent the night in a cozy cell last night.”

 Shepard flopped down on the leather couch in Aria’s office. Down below someone was checking the speakers in the club, music cutting in and out, causing the floor to rumble beneath Shepard’s feet.

 “Yep.”

 Aria looked up from her paperwork and glared. “You also got hurt. Did a cop do that?”

 Shepard touched his cheek. He hadn’t taken a look at himself, but judging by Aria’s disapproving stare it must be nasty.

 “No. I tripped when I was dumping the package.” He pressed it again, grimacing as the skin stung all the way up to his eye. Last time he ran with his shoelaces untied.

 “Ah yes… the package,” she said. Sitting back in her chair, she locked her fingers together and rested them on her stomach. “Your little run-around had the cops confused long enough for Bray to pick it up. Well done.”

 Shepard shrugged. “Just doing my job.”

 “Which is more than I can say for Finch,” Aria mumbled. Standing, she slid her finger along the edge of her desk before coming to a stop at the corner. Leaning her hip against the edge, she stared out the windows of her office toward the dancefloor of Afterlife.

 Shepard dropped his hand and rested his elbows on his knees. He knew what she was going to ask—she’d asked it before. Everyone thought Finch was a liability. Kid couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut, and one of these days he would slip up.

 Shepard just didn’t plan on being there when it happened.

 “Did he say anything?” she asked after a time. 

 “No,” he replied. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tired and didn’t much feel like spending his time defending Finch, but… “He was freaked but no. He didn’t snitch.”

 Aria hummed. “That’s a surprise.”

 “Think of it as a testament to your authority. Not even the police can scare him as much as you.”

 He caught the edge of a smirk, but it was gone when by the time she’d turned to face him.

 “You did well. Now go home. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Grunt got a bottle to the back of the head last night when an unruly… _patron_ decided he didn’t want to leave. I need you to cover for him.”

 Shepard nodded. Standing with a low wheeze, he zipped up his jacket and headed to the door, stopping only when Aria spoke again.

 “Oh, and Shepard?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Get that cut checked. It’s not a good look.”

XX

 Shepard hated the rain. Living in Vancouver, Shepard was reminded of that hatred almost every day.

 Popping the collar of his jacket he hurried off down the street, head ducked as he avoided the puddles. Coming around a corner quickly, he squeezed past a group of locals as they shared shelter under the awning of a Chinese restaurant, before coming to a stop in front of a shitty bar that looked like it had never seen better days. Actually, it looked like it didn’t even know what ‘better days’ was—like it had just grown up from the ground like a mushroom.

 Slipping inside he didn’t bother to scrape off his shoes on the mat, and ignored the disapproving glare from the tall man behind the counter.

 He was used to it by now.

 “Did you really have to do that, Shepard? I just mopped the floor,” Garrus said.

 Shepard sat down on one of the stools and looked down at the floor. “Doesn’t look like you did. What colour did these tiles used to be?”

 “They’ve always been black… I think.”

 Rolling his eyes, Shepard stretched his arms across the counter before gently resting his forehead on the polished wood. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath in before letting it out slowly. Home sweet home.

 “You got a smoke on you?” he mumbled. Lifting his head he watched as Garrus reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack.

 “What happened to yours?” he asked, holding one out for Shepard.

 Taking it, he tucked it behind his ear. “Cops took them.”

 “They also give you that cut?”

 “Pavement did.”

 “At least it doesn’t make you any uglier than you already are.”

 Shepard flipped Garrus off. “Thanks, fucker.”

 Shepard had spent a few weeks standing out across from the Palaven before it had been bought, watching the regulars stumble in at eight and leave at midnight. Every day he watched and every day was the same; the same regulars; the same weary looks; the same stench of desperation and cheap beer.

 But then Garrus showed up.

 Bright eyed, bushy tailed, and straight out of university with a business degree, Garrus came into the place and tried to pick it up. Attracting local hipsters who wanted the ‘authentic’ experience, Palaven became the ‘hip’ place to be, offering cheap beer and karaoke Saturdays. That was until one of the patrons got mugged and stabbed by a local, and Vancouverites were once again reminded why Eastside was a no-fly zone if you valued your kidney. Still, the occasional group could be seen coming in, not caring too much about the locals so long as the beer remained cheap and the karaoke delightfully out of tune.

 Garrus had noticed Shepard during that time, and it was on a particularly wet and cold day that he invited him in and gave him a shot of whiskey to warm him up. Since then Shepard had become a regular.

 He avoided Saturday Karaoke, of course.

 “So if you’re not to fucked up from your, uh… adventures last night—and no, I don’t want to know what you were up to—did you want to come to a party?”

 “A party?” he repeated, a bit skeptical.

 “Down by the UBC. Some university kids are having a ‘welcome back’ party and I got an invite from an old friend of mine.”

 Shepard groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. “A university party? C’mon, Garrus, do I look like the type to hang out with a bunch of rich fucks?”

 “You hang out with me.”

 “You’re not rich—you’re middle class. Besides, maybe I only visit you because of the free booze.”

 Garrus tossed his cleaning rag over his shoulder and braced his hands on top of the bar. “C’mon, Shepard… it could be fun. Free drinks and drunk freshmen doing stupid shit while we look on and judge. Besides, you might meet a guy. You look like you could use some… company, and you know how horny university guys are. They might even take pity on you with that banged up face and have sex with you with the lights on.”

 Shepard gave him the finger again. Dropping his hand back on to the bar he fiddled with a peanut shell, fingertips still cold from the rain. After the week he’d had maybe going to a party would be a good thing. Free booze, the chance to laugh at university kids who couldn’t hold their liquor and, as much as he hated to admit it, he hadn’t been laid in a long time.

 Kind of an embarrassingly long time. Like… months. Even Finch had gotten more action than he did.

 Finch saying the word dick over and over again replayed in Shepard’s mind, and he held back a grimace.

 “I’m going to go home and sleep. I’ll text you if I’m going,” Shepard said, slipping off the stool. Keeping things open and vague was what Shepard did best, if he was being honest.

 “Starts at nine—I’ll be leaving here once Joker shows up. I can give you a lift if you’re here by ten.”

 Shepard waved Garrus off. Taking the cigarette from behind his ear, he debated thanking Garrus for it but figured he’d give him a heart attack if he did. Instead he shoved it in his pocket for later. Steeling himself, he turned the collar of his jacket up once again and stepped out into the pelting rain.

 Maybe he’d go if it stopped raining.

 And in Vancouver? That wasn’t likely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get... heated when our star crossed lovers meet for the first time.

 The washroom sink was dripping.

 Kaidan could hear it from his bedroom—a gentle tap, tap, tap against the bottom of the sink that, under normal circumstances, would have garnered no interest from him. But lying in bed, face pressed against his pillows and curtains drawn tight, there wasn’t much for Kaidan to focus on except for that.

 Kaidan had spent the last seventy-two hours living far away from the world, mind numbed with drugs and body swaddled in blankets and covered in pillows. Cut off from the outside all he had as company was his own breathing and the insistent throbbing behind his left eye. But upon waking on the fourth day with the sound of the tap lulling him out of his stupor, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the sound didn’t _hurt_. Sure, it was annoying, but Kaidan could deal with annoying.

 Carefully he rolled over on to his back. The movement didn’t cause a railroad sized spike of pain to slam into his skull, nor did he feel like throwing up. That was a good sign…

 Opening his eyes he stared up at the ceiling. Once again there was no pain.

 Finally he sat up.

 Definitely no pain.

 Sighing with relief, he kicked off the blankets and grabbed for his phone to check the time.

 _11:30 AM SATURDAY_ , it read, followed by thirty-two text message notifications—most of them from Ash and Liara. Opening the newest one, he smiled when he read it.

_[9:34 AM] Ash: Party Saturday night. If your migraine isn’t gone by then I’ll kick it’s ass for you!!!!_

 Running a hand over his face, he picked the sand from the corners of his eyes before stumbling to the washroom, vision unfocused and head still foggy with drugs. Turning on the tap he took a look at himself in the mirror and frowned. He definitely looked like he’d just spent the last three days living in a hole in the ground.

 Grabbing his weekly pill organizer, he swallowed the assortment of colourful pills stashed in Saturday’s pocket while the sink filled with warm water.

 Time to get on with things.

XX

 “I was beginning to think you’d died.”

 Liara stood before him in the park, two iced coffees in hand and a serious frown on her face.

 Kaidan chuckled and accepted one of the coffees.

 “If you really thought I was dead I hope you’d come looking for a body,” he said as she sat down next to him on the bench.

 “I was just about to. I’d have kicked your door down and everything,” she said, still frowning.

 Kaidan believed her.

 Taking a sip of the drink, he hummed as the bitter taste of coffee slid down his throat and nestled itself deep in his gut. Any time he had a migraine he avoided caffeine, and every time he missed it dearly. Sitting back on the bench he watched a family of three wander down the hill toward the rose garden. It had stopped raining and everyone was taking advantage of the elusive sun’s warm rays.

 “Thanks for the—”

 “You were down for three days, Kaidan,” Liara interrupted.

 Kaidan heard the worry in her voice. She tried to hide it, afraid for some reason to show she cared too much, but Kaidan knew her ticks by now. The slightest change in tone and he caught on to it—could hear it in her voice and see it in her eyes no matter how hard she tried to shrug it off.

 “I’m fine,” he said, “the stress of the new term got to me. You know how it is, yeah?”

 “Are you sure?”

 He turned to look at her. She was chewing on her straw, working away at the edge like she was prone to do.

 “I’m positive,” he said gently. Reaching out he gave her knee a quick squeeze. “Trust me… we’d both know if it was something more. I haven’t had a seizure in—”

 “Don’t,” she said quickly. Clearing her throat she sat straighter and tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She locked eyes with him. “All that matter is you’re alright. And I trust you to tell me if anything changes.”

 Kaidan nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

 Kaidan knew Liara cared, but he didn’t want to shoulder the burden of her worries along with everything else in his life. Her concern made _him_ concerned, and that made it all the more difficult to concentrate on just being healthy. Maybe it was selfish to think that way, but sometimes Kaidan wished Liara could just back off for a minute or two and let him deal with things on his own.

 He could never tell her that, of course. It’d just make her worry more, and they’d be stuck in the perpetual worry machine together.  

 “How’s the first week of classes been?” he asked, breaking the silence. He just wanted to move on—have a coffee and chat, and bask under the sunlight without every ray boring into his head.

 “Oh, alright I suppose. The usual crowed of first year students who think intro to archeology will be easy. And, of course, the dread of grant applications. But I’ve been asked to present my thesis as a lecture to the class in November!”

 Kaidan grinned. “That’s great news, Liara. I’m happy to hear it.”

 She returned the smile. “Thank you. I’m excited to begin testing my teaching skills using my own material. It should be a good learning experience for myself. How about you? Did you find time to go in to the lab?”

 “I was in on Monday,” said Kaidan. “Just touched based with everyone and… yeah. That’s, uh, it. Other than the migraine, this week has been me just trying to get back into the flow, you know? I’m going to have to make up some of the work I lost by staying in all weekend… after, you know, I have my coffee first.”

 He waggled the cup back and forth, ice tapping against the plastic.

 “You’re not going to the party?” Liara asked. She was looking at him like he’d just left her alone in a lion pit.

 “No? I wasn’t planning on it. I don’t have time, Liara.”

 “But you have to!” Liara practically yelled.

 Kaidan quirked a brow. “Uh… why?”

 “Because I already told Tali I was going, and you know how she gets at these things,” she explained. “She’s going to get drunk and I don’t want to be the only sober one there.”

 “I drink, too,” he said.

 “Yes, but you don’t get wasted. It’s a ritual of Tali’s at this point: first part of the year and she’s off doing car engine impressions and threatening to get tattoos of—of unicorns and naked women. Please, Kaidan, you have to come!”

 Kaidan sighed and ducked his head. It had been a while since he’d seen the ‘gang’, everyone having been off and about during the summer break while he was locked away in a lab watching genes mutate.

 “Please?”

 He really _should_ read those articles he’d been putting off…

 “I’ll mark all of your multiple choice exams for the term.”

 Fuck reading.

 “Deal,” he said.

XX

 “And so, if you just accelerate the throttle a little more, you should get that perfect engine purr. You know the one, right?”

 “No… why don’t you show me?”

 Tali giggled and leaned in closer to the strange man wearing a tie-dye shirt un-ironically. Kaidan too leaned in closer, carefully placing himself in between Tali and him.

 “Hey Tali—why don’t we go get a glass of water, eh?” he suggested, ignoring the protests of tie-dye man.

 “But I already have a drink,” she said, still grinning.

 Twelve-thirty in the evening and Tali was well into her tradition. Cheeks pink and dark brown curls a magpie’s nest atop her head, and wearing leggings with a space motif on them, Tali looked the picture perfect university freshman, full of mirth and naiveté. But that was to the _outside_ observer. To those who knew her, Tali was a foul mouthed, cynical woman whose resentments reached across an entire continent, an ocean, and a sea.

 It was rather impressive, actually. Kaidan wondered where she stored all her anger in such a small body.

 “I could use a glass of water and some company,” he said, steering her away from the gaggle of men who had found her. A few voiced their displeasure but Kaidan sent them a sharp glare, ending it before it could even begin.

 Kaidan didn’t like to fight, but he knew how to land a hit when pressed.

 “You’re so nice, Kaidan. Too nice,” Tali slurred out. Pressing herself tight against his side, she swayed along with him through the crowed inside the house. Meanwhile Kaidan was desperately looking for Ashley amongst the press of brunette university aged girls that all began to look the same.

 “So how was your summer?” she asked.

 “Uh… it was… well it was—”

 “Mine was shit!” Tali interrupted. Stopping abruptly in the middle of the cramped hallway, she twirled around to face Kaidan, eyes bright with emotions. “My father… is a _Takhat_.”

 And that was why she was already drunk: her father. It was always her father.

 “Yeah? What did he say?”

 “As soon as I got back home he said to me: Tali, you need to come back home. You need to become a politician like myself, and like your grandfather before you, and like his grandfather before him. He said that I can’t stay in Canada and finish my engineering degree.”

 “But you came back,” Kaidan said, patting her arm gently. She was too drunk to have a serious conversation with otherwise he’d have sat her down by now and asked her for the details. Instead she was swaying around to the music, calling her father something in Hebrew, with a cup of cheap beer in her hand that Kaidan was pretty sure wasn’t kosher.

 “I did. I did come back. I told him that he couldn’t keep me in Tel Aviv and then I ran. I ran all the way to the airport.”

 Kaidan quirked a brow. “Okay… sure. That must have been a long run.”

 She giggled. “No, I didn’t _actually_ run, silly. My mum dropped me off.”

 She frowned again and looked down at her cup, as if it would have all the answers to her father issues. Off in the distance Kaidan could see Ashley standing with Liara near the front of house. Grabbing Tali’s shoulders gently, he turned her around and pushed her toward them, mindful of her wobbly steps.

 The music was louder in here and the press of people was almost stifling. A deep throb of pain went through his skull, reminding him of his precarious situation.

 He needed some fresh air.

 “There you are,” Liara said. She reached out to stabilize Tali. It resulted in more of a hug than anything else, Tali wrapping her arms around her waist.

 “You look like shit,” Ashley said over the music.

 “Thanks,” Kaidan replied, rubbing his temple.

 “You should go out and get some fresh air. Maybe go home,” Liara suggested, brows furrowing.

Kaidan smiled tightly. He didn’t want to worry them by leaving; more importantly, he didn’t want to _have_ to leave. But the room was quickly becoming oppressive, the heat and the noise a complete sensory overload. His migraine was making a valiant attempt at coming back, and as much as he’d have liked to have had another lager, the desire of not having his eyeball scream at him for another three days won out.

 “Yeah I think I’ll do that. Can you take Tali home?”

 Ashely nodded. “Yeah, for sure. I could give you a lift back too, if you want.”

 Kaidan shook his head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.”

 He gave each of them a quick kiss on the temple before he pushed his way through the throngs toward the back door.

 Stepping out he was hit with the cool relief of the midnight air. Taking in a deep breath he allowed himself a moment, eyes closing and shoulders relaxing as the quiet atmosphere pushed back the steady pounding between his brows.

 Maybe he’d get lucky—maybe it would only be a headache this time.

 Running his hand over his face he brushed away the haze of alcohol. The house the party was held at belonged to a family who rented it out during the university season to students from the Art department. The house was large, bordering more on mansion size, and the backyard garden was no smaller. Kaidan didn’t dare guess how much the property must have cost.

 Millions upon millions, most likely.

 It had rained all yesterday and was threating to again. Kaidan could feel the chill and smell the dampness in the air, yet he didn’t go to his car right away. Instead he wandered over to a bench to take a seat and collect himself. Off in the distance, a few adventurous couples spoke softly under the trees, but for the most part the garden remained secluded, the cold in the air and the lure of alcohol and dance music keeping everyone inside.

 He could feel the press of his medication in his back pocket and briefly toyed with the thought of not taking it. Just to prove that Liara’s worries were unfounded.

 But it was irrational and dangerous.

 Pulling out the packet, he popped the small blue pill into his mouth and swallowed it dry. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and pressed his hands against his forehead.

 “You got a lite?”

 Kaidan’s heart scrambled up his throat.

 Swinging his head around, Kaidan saw a man standing a short distance away, cigarette in between his fingers and a bored expression on his… rather remarkably angled face.

 “No, I don’t. Sorry,” he said, rubbing his shoulder.

_Fuck, that hurt._

 The man shrugged but didn’t say anything further.

 “You probably shouldn’t smoke out here anyway. I don’t think our guests would appreciate cigarette ash all over their lawn.”

 He shrugged again and shoved the cigarette back into his pocket. “It’ll be the least of their concerns in a couple of minutes.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Some kid’s trying out a beer bong for the first time.”

 Kaidan could only imagine that mess. “Ah… I see.”

 The man continued to stand nearby, his attention fixed on something off in the distance, which gave Kaidan ample time to give him a once over. Tall and broad, he cut quite the imposing image as he stood perfectly still under the bright moonlight. His hair was shorn close to his head, drawing attention to the long, straight angle of his nose and the sharp cut of his jaw. His brows were furrowed in tight and shadows hid most of his face, but Kaidan could see his blue eyes despite the darkness surrounding them.

 He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, and his black boots were scuffed up and well-worn, shoelaces undone and trampled on.

 He was, in a word, hot.

 And utterly unlike anyone Kaidan expected to see at a university party in the heart of West Point.

 “Do you go to university here?” he found himself asking.

 The man turned slightly, and Kaidan was struck by just _how_ blue his eyes were.

 “Nope,” he said.

 “Oh… I see.”

 There was silence once more. Kaidan should have just left it at that. Clearly the guy didn’t want to talk. And yet…

 “I’m Kaidan,” he said. Standing, he stuck his hand out to him.

 The man looked down at his hand and then back up at him. For a second he thought maybe he was going to blow him off, but then he took it in a firm embrace.

 “Shepard.”

 “Just Shepard?” Kaidan asked.

 “Yep.”

  Silence again. Kaidan sat back down. One point toward Kaidan’s inabilities to make friends.

 Shepard continued to stand next to him, once again perfectly still as he fixated on something far away.

 “Mind if I take a seat?” he finally asked, deep voice breaking the rather uncomfortable silence.

 Kaidan shook his head, a little surprised. “Nah, go ahead.”

 Shepard sat down next to him, legs spreading as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an individually packaged toothpick—the kind you could get from cheap restaurants. Unwrapping it, he stuffed the end between his teeth and tossed the wrapper on to the grass. Resting his arm on the back of the bench, Shepard kept his legs spread and chewed on the tip of the toothpick.

 He was sitting close enough Kaidan could feel his heat and smell the spicy body wash on him. He could also see the cut on his cheek.

 “You get in a fight?” he asked, nodding his chin toward the cut.

 Shepard reached up and touched it like he was suddenly aware it was there. He shook his head. “Tripped on my shoelaces.”

 Kaidan looked down at Shepard’s shoes. He could believe it.

 Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and once again tried to sooth the savage beast that was coming closer to his door. Oddly enough, Shepard’s presence made everything a little more muted and easier to deal with.

 “Is your girlfriend alright?” Shepard asked suddenly.

 Kaidan quirked a brow. “What?”

 Shepard shrugged and took the toothpick out of his mouth. He had very large lips.

 Kaidan kind of wanted to see what it would be like to have them pressed against his own.

 God, he needed to get laid—and soon—if he was seriously considering propositioning some guy he just met. Some guy who looked like he’d lived his life doing his best James Stark impersonation.

 “I saw you helping out your girlfriend earlier. She looked fucked.”

 “Oh, you mean Tali? She’s not my girlfriend,” Kaidan said quickly. “She’s just a friend. And she’s alright. Drunk, but she’ll sleep it off.”

 Shepard nodded. “Garrus will be happy to hear that.”

 “Garrus?”

 “Buddy of mine,” Shepard explained. Sitting up a bit straighter, he shoved the toothpick back in his mouth. “He thought she was hot.”

 Kaidan chuckled. “Yeah… yeah, she gets that a lot. She’s cute, for sure. I mean, she’s my friend so I don’t think she’s hot because… you know… it’d be weird. But yeah, she’s hot.”

 “I guess.”

 “You guess?”

 Shepard shrugged. “I was busy looking at her boyfriend.” 

 “She doesn’t… oh. Oh.”

 Shepard turned and their eyes locked. Kaidan watched as the stern, almost bored expression transformed into a cheeky smile with a twinkle in his eyes.

 He snorted to cover up his own smile.

 “You followed me out here then?” he asked.

 “With an ass like that, who wouldn’t?”

“So does the indifferent asshole act get a lot of guys?” Kaidan asked, leaning back against the bench. He could feel Shepard’s hand against his shoulder and waited to see if he’d move it.

 He didn’t.

 “Who said it was an act?” Shepard replied.

 He’d lost the smile but the twinkle was still there. Kaidan had seen that look before on others he’d been alone with. Shepard was all about the hunt—he could see it in the way he held himself. This was like a little game for him; make the guy smile, compliment him, and then go in for the kill. Normally, Kaidan would have laughed at such advances. He was twenty-seven and well past the stage where flattery could make him titter and blush, and it wasn’t like he was desperate for attention anyway. He’d had his share of girlfriends and boyfriends—this wasn’t his first rodeo. And yet… Shepard’s slightly dangerous aura made him want to play along.

 “So what do you study?” Shepard asked, suddenly changing topics.

 “Who says I’m still in university?” Kaidan retorted.

 Shepard rolled his eyes and took his arm back. “You’re wearing a sweater-vest, dude. Only university kids wear sweater-vests.”

 Kaidan laughed. “Alright—you’ve got me there.”

 “So what do you do? Let me guess… Liberal Arts degree? Philosophy… maybe English? Or law school?”

  “None of those,” Kaidan said. “I’m working on my doctorate in molecular biology—studying cells and how you can block any abnormal, rapid reproduction of white blood cells, particularly within the brain. Basically, I’m one of many just trying to figure out how to reverse the effects and make them act like regular cells should in more humane and effective ways than we have now—like without the need for radiation or chemotherapy.”

 Shepard didn’t say anything after that. His brows furrowed and the twinkle was gone. He looked confused, but like he didn’t want to admit it. Kaidan felt a bit bad. Rarely did he get verbal diarrhea like that. 

 “I study cancer,” he explained further.

 “Oh… oh yeah, okay. Cool,” Shepard replied.

 “And what do you do if you’re not in school?” Kaidan inquired carefully.

 “I’m a bouncer,” Shepard said quickly.

 “For what club?”

 “A shitty one.”

 Kaidan lifted his brows and nodded slowly. “Right… okay.”

 There was silence once again. Kaidan didn’t feel uncomfortable, but he could tell he’d killed the mood by acting like a superior asshole. _Oh, I just study molecular biology! Don’t mind me while I completely alienate you from the discussion!_

 “Look, I apologize. I didn’t mean to—” he began, but was cut off by Shepard’s knee pressing against his own. He felt his heart skip a beat in one perfect cliché moment.

Shepard had abandoned his toothpick at some point and was staring at him through the moonlight with a certain intensity that made Kaidan’s stomach clench in anticipation. He could also feel his dick respond in equal excitement at the vague prospect of getting laid.

 “You wanna fuck off, Kaidan?” Shepard asked, his voice even deeper as he leaned in close. He glanced over Kaidan’s shoulder for the briefest of moments before his blue eyes were once again pinning him to the bench. “Party is a complete shit show and I don’t really feel like going back in.”

 Everything about this was a bad idea. Kaidan had done _one_ one-nightstand in his life, and it had been awkward and uncomfortable the entire night through. Sure, he’d gotten off, and on the list of ‘Shit That Could Go Wrong’, awkward was probably the least concerning, but it had still been an uncomfortable grey area to navigate. Not to mention he knew nothing about Shepard. He didn’t even know his first name. And that exciting sense of danger he came through definitely wasn’t supposed to be sexy.

 And yet it was. It was _really_ fucking hot. Everything about Shepard was hot. He was the typical bad boy, and while Kaidan would deny it if anyone asked, the bad boy persona _worked_ for him.

 There were a million and then some reasons he shouldn’t have said yes.

 But he listened to the one reason he should.

 He was horny and a hot, rebel without a clue was asking him if he wanted to fuck.

 “We could go to my place if you’d like,” Kaidan found himself whispering.

 Shepard nodded and stood up abruptly, leaving Kaidan feeling a bit colder but no less excited. Standing as well, Kaidan took a moment to appreciate that his impending migraine had left, before he led Shepard to the front of the house. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he fiddled with his car keys as they strode down the sidewalk side by side. Their shoulders brushed now and again, but other than that they remained a casual distance apart.

 “How far?” Shepard asked as they rounded the corner. His shoulders were hunched and head slightly ducked. He looked like a man who was fully prepared to get jumped at any moment, body tense and hands bunched into fists as they rested inside his pockets.

 “At the end of the block. I arrived a bit late.”

 Pressing the unlock button, his car’s lights flashed a few times and Shepard let out a low whistle.

 “You buy this or your parents get it for you?” he asked, stopping beside it.

 It was just a BMW.

 “I bought it,” he said. “Did you drive down here or…?”

 “Got a lift in an old Ford,” Shepard explained.

 “With your friend who thinks Tali is hot?” Kaidan asked while he got in.

 Shepard seemed to hesitate outside for a second, before he slipped into the car and flopped down on to the leather seat with a grunt.

 “Yeah, that’s the one,” he said. He made no move to put on his seatbelt.

 “You uh… gonna put that on?”

 Shepard quirked a brow and stared at Kaidan blankly. Then it seemed to click.

 “Shit—sorry,” he said, pulling the belt out. Snapping it in place, he sent Kaidan a sheepish grin before going to play with the radio. He settled on a station playing obnoxious punk music, but turned it down low enough all Kaidan heard was a pleasant rumbling beneath the roar of the engine.

 The drive to his apartment was taken in silence. It was… surprisingly comfortable. While there was an air of anticipation and the familiar curl of lust in his guts, Kaidan found it easy to relax next to Shepard—like they’d done this before in some other life.

 It wasn’t until they were at his apartment that Kaidan realized the relaxed feeling was not shared by all.

 Shepard looked antsy when they got out in the parking garage. His eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other, and Kaidan could see the tightness in his jaw. He could also see the worry in his eyes and the furrowing of his brow—things that had been lost in the darkness of the car.

 “You okay?” he asked, stopping just short of entering the elevator. “If you don’t want to go through with this we can—”

 “I’m fine,” Shepard said, stepping into the elevator. Slumping against the wall, he braced one foot behind him, hands still stuffed in his pockets.

 Kaidan joined Shepard, suddenly hyper aware of what was going on.

_Just casually bringing home a guy who you know nothing about. No big deal—guys do this all the time. But, you know… usually not with men who look like they could run in a motorcycle gang…_

He sure was gorgeous, though. This was the first time he could get a good look at him in the light, and the angles and slopes of his features were even more pronounced under the bright lights. He looked like he could be a model, with his pouty lips, high cheekbones, and soulful eyes drawing you in like some sort of hypnosis. A sirens call, only less sensual and more powerful—raw and hungry and unflinching.

 Shepard caught him staring, but Kaidan didn’t look away. Instead he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly to get a look at the scar that ran up his hairline. It looked like a half-moon.

 “You just gonna stare at me all night?” Shepard asked casually.

 Kaidan shrugged. “I had more in mind.”

 Shepard looked like he was about to say something but the ting of the elevator doors opening stopped him.

 “This is my floor,” Kaidan said. Leading Shepard down the long hallway, he tried to even out his breathing as his heart rammed itself repeatedly against his ribcage. Shepard was walking closer to him than before; close enough that when he stopped in front of his door Shepard bumped into him.

 He stayed where he was; so close that Kaidan could feel his breath on his neck and his chest against his back. As casually as he could he unlocked the door, and they stumbled into the dark entranceway together.

 He didn’t have time to turn the lights on before he was being shoved up against the wall. For a brief humiliating and terrifying moment, Kaidan thought Shepard was attacking him. Honestly, that was how he expected things to go. A hot, slightly dangerous guy asks you to bring him home and you expected sex? What a fucking idiot.

 But then Shepard’s rough hands were forcing their way up his sweater vest, and those big, full lips he’d been obsessing over the last hour pressed against his own in a bruising embrace.

 Suddenly everything became a very, very good idea.

 Gripping his leather jacket hard enough to bruise, Kaidan returned the kiss, lips parting and teeth biting as Shepard’s leg slipped in between his. Moaning as he was rubbed forcefully against Shepard’s thigh, Kaidan cupped Shepard’s face and dominated the kiss, going in deeper and taking control while he was pushed harder against the wall.

 Shepard tasted of cigarettes and beer, with the faintest trace of peppermint.

 Must have been from the toothpick.

 Shepard was silent as they kissed, but when they broke apart Kaidan could hear a small growl slip past. It wormed its way deep into his gut and he relished in that simple sound. Opening his eyes, he peered at Shepard in the darkness, the glare from the city the only source of light they had. It was then Kaidan realized he’d probably irritated the cut on his cheek by grabbing his face.

 “Sorry,” he mumbled.

 Shepard smirked or maybe glowered—it was hard to tell in the dark—and kissed him again. Kaidan heard his shirt rip, but Shepard didn’t apologize for that.

 They stumbled into Kaidan’s bedroom, shedding clothes and grabbing at each other like two men starved. Kaidan didn’t know how long it took or how they managed to make it without breaking anything, but one moment he was standing and the next he was on the bed, legs spread and Shepard’s head between them leaving hot, sticky kisses against his thighs.

 Back arching off the bed he moaned out as Shepard took him in. Toes curling and legs spreading further, he reached down to grasp the back of Shepard’s head with one hand, the covering his mouth as he was pleasured within an inch of his life. Shepard was unrelenting in his assault, lips soft and tongue dextrous as he worked Kaidan all over. His hands, rough and calloused, slid up his stomach, petting his skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

 Eventually Shepard came up and Kaidan could taste himself on his tongue.

 Yes, this was _definitely_ a good idea.

 Switching their positions, Kaidan pressed Shepard down on to his bed and ground against him, Shepard thrusting upward to meet him. Grasping the back of his thighs they continued to move together, Shepard slipping in between Kaidan’s sweat slick thighs when they rolled over to lie side by side. The blankets twisted around them but neither seemed to care, too caught up in each other and their impending orgasms to worry about it. Hands rubbed and grabbed while they rocked together on the bed, frantic motions finding a solid, steady rhythm while the headboard hit the wall as if to keep the beat.

 Kaidan had no concept of time—no idea how long they teased each other until it became something more; something more desperate and urgent as they gripped each other and began to twist and pull. Shepard’s breathing was ragged and unsteady, but his hand remained skilled, seemingly knowing exactly what Kaidan liked with just a few experimental tugs. Kaidan tried to keep up, matching Shepard’s movements while he kissed and nipped and sucked the skin stretched across his collarbone and neck.

 Shepard tasted like salt and soap, his jaw rough and pleasing against Kaidan’s lips. The small, occasional noises he made were like ambrosia to Kaidan, each groan and grunt a victory. His body as tight and hard against his own, and the way he grabbed Kaidan like he wasn’t made of glass turned him on further, the power behind his movements raw and unfiltered. Kaidan was sure he’d have bruises on his hips tomorrow, but he really didn’t care.

 A few more swipes and Kaidan was done. Crying out, he thrust into Shepard’s grasp, body quaking with relief. Despite his uncoordinated movements Shepard came too, a breathy pant against Kaidan’s ear the only warning he received before his release coated his hand and stomach.

 Rolling off of Shepard, Kaidan stretched out on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He’d started his day out like this—staring up at the ceiling in the dark, mind groggy, trying to make sense of where he was and if he was okay.

 He now had his answer. He was next to a naked, sweaty man he’d just met, cooling off after having one amazing (and much needed) orgasm.

 He was definitely okay.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and Shepard face the dreaded 'morning after', and Shepard learns a little something about Kaidan's parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys. I'm just so thrilled you're all enjoying the story so much thus far! Since I last posted I managed to crank out another three chapters simply because I was that excited to write more for you guys! So now we're up to chapter 15!
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely comments, the kudos, bookmarks, etc. I appreciate every one of you who took the time to read this fic!
> 
> Cheers!

 Shepard’s room was furnished entirely with the cheapest shit he could find at Ikea. Everything from the mattress on the bed to the curtains over the window had been Shepard going into the ‘As Is’ section, picking whatever would work, and purchasing them without really caring if they would feel nice or go with his aesthetic.

 The mattress was a bit lumpy and hard, and the black sheets were scratchy and needed six washes to make them remotely bearable. His curtains were a crisp white with pastel flowers on them, and any time Jack strode into his room she’d laugh when she saw them. His closet door wasn’t hinged properly and hung limply open, showing off his entirely grey and black wardrobe to anyone who cared. It was a bit barren, the only decorations old Kung-Fu movie posters, but it suited a need. He slept in there and changed; that was it. He was used to the practicality of it all. The hard mattress was _his_ mattress, and that was all that mattered.

 But Kaidan’s mattress wasn’t hard; his sheets weren’t scratchy at all, and while the curtains were currently open, Shepard reckoned they were probably nice as well.

 Kaidan’s bed was soft. It was comfortable. It was… unnerving.

 Shepard wasn’t used to waking up in such a _nice_ place. While his apartment wasn’t a cardboard box in an alleyway, it also wasn’t a penthouse suite in the middle of Yaletown with a view of the harbour and a bed the size of Shepard’s room in its entirety.

 Kaidan was rich. Really rich. Like, disgustingly rich. The BMW had been a tip-off, but when Kaidan drove him to his apartment Shepard began to realize that he was getting into bed with someone well above his station. At the time he didn’t care. With a dick as hard as his and an ass like that walking in front of him, Shepard would have fucked anywhere so long as Kaidan was up for it. But now, two orgasms later and a night of sleep (comfortable, restful sleep on Egyptian cotton sheets no less), Shepard realized just how out of place he was.

And what made it even worse was Kaidan.

 Kaidan was… nice. Courteous in a way Shepard wasn’t used to. After fucking he’d brought Shepard a wet cloth to clean himself with. Then, when they’d gone for a second round, Kaidan returned the blowjob. And it was a fucking good one, too.

 Kaidan was also a cuddler.

 His arm was draped over Shepard’s chest, nose pressed against his neck and lips parted in the softest of snores. If Shepard wanted to he could probably count his eyelashes one by one—that was how close he was. Shepard wasn’t used to this. _Any_ of it; from the comfy bed, to the penthouse view, to the weird mushy feeling he felt when he Kaidan’s disheveled hair.

He wasn’t in his world anymore, and that set him on edge.

 As carefully as he could Shepard slipped out from under Kaidan’s grasp, being careful not to shake the bed too much as he did so. It was still early, the light streaming in from the windows a muted grey tone and the streets free from traffic. Stifling a yawn, he began looking for his clothes, finding that he’d lost his pants somewhere along the journey toward the bedroom.

 In the midst of putting on his shirt Shepard caught sight of a ray of light hitting the bay down below as it reflecting off of the gentle rise and swell of the water. He really should have just buggered off as soon as he’d woken up, but…

 Approaching the windows Shepard looked across at the city. He’d never seen Vancouver like this. His world was on the gritty streets in the underbelly—far away from respectable people and their respectable lives. His world was dirty and coarse and brutal. Up here, everything looked clean. Simple, even. From here you couldn’t see the girl dancing on stage just for a couple of loonies, or the homeless veteran with track marks on his arms and a distant look in his eyes. You couldn’t hear the screams of some poor sod that just got mugged; smell the garbage as it sat in the gutters; feel the dirt under your nails and taste the blood on your tongue from the hit that landed.

 Up here, Shepard could believe—just for a second—like maybe the world wasn’t complete shit.

 But this wasn’t his world.

 There was movement on the bed.

 Shepard turned to see Kaidan sitting up in his bed, curly hair a complete mess as he scratched the back of his head.

 “Hey,” Kaidan mumbled.

_So much for a quiet exit._

 Yawning, Kaidan scooted over to the side of the bed and sat, blanket wrapped around his waist as if to give him modesty.

  _Cover up all you’d like—I still had your dick in my mouth last night._

“You’re still here,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard shrugged. “Yeah… sorry about that.”

 Kaidan shook his head and smiled. “Nah, don’t be. I was kind of hoping you’d stick around.”

 Shepard’s chest tightened.

 “I really should get out of here,” he said as he continued to pick up his clothes. This was weird; this wasn’t what he was used to. He was used to hooking up and bailing when everything was done. He wasn’t used to sticking around—and he certainly wasn’t used to having someone say they were glad their dirty little one-night stand stayed.

 “You want some breakfast?” Kaidan asked, and Shepard swore he sounded a bit hopeful.

 His stomach growled at the suggestion, but he covered up the noise with a cough. “I don’t eat breakfast.”

 “At least let me make you a cup of coffee?”

 Shepard was about to decline, but then he went and did a fucking dumb thing and _looked_ at him. Kaidan was still sitting on the edge of the bed, hair a curly mess and eyes still cloudy with sleep. The sun was beginning to bleed further through the clouds, and rays of warm sunlight stretched across his shoulders and jaw.

 Shepard wanted to crawl back in bed and fuck him again.

 “Sure,” he said quietly.

 Kaidan broke out into a huge grin. “Perfect. I make the best coffee.”

 Shepard smiled slightly.

 He waited quietly by the door while Kaidan put on a pair of briefs and a shirt. He noted his pants were near the couch down the hallway, but he waited until Kaidan lead the way to pick them up. It felt weird to go anywhere in the clean, pristine apartment without Kaidan there.

 “So, did you have… fun last night?” Kaidan asked as he puttered about his kitchen.

 The kitchen was massive. Pots hung from the ceiling over a cooking island, and the stove wasn’t your average electric one. Shepard could probably fit his own fridge in Kaidan’s. Twice over.

 “Yeah, I did,” Shepard said, trying hard not to laugh at Kaidan’s question.

 Clearly he was new to this. It was kinda cute.

 “Did you?” he asked, putting on his jeans.

 “Yeah, I really did. You’re… I mean,” he paused and locked eyes with Shepard from across the way, “You were incredible.”

 Shepard rubbed the back of his neck and wandered over to the fridge. “Thanks…”

 The fridge was stripped bare, only a few sticky-notes on it telling of appointments and meetings. Jack insisted on coating their fridge in cheap magnets and angry letters reminding Shepard to take out the trash.

 “You like to keep your space clean, don’t you?” Shepard said. Turning around, he noted that Kaidan was using a fancy press of some sort to make the coffee.

 “Yeah, I guess. I like the Spartan lifestyle, you know? Living lean,” Kaidan explained, brows furrowed in concentration as he poured out an exact amount of ground beans.

 “I get that,” Shepard said. Resting his hip against the counter, his eyes wander down Kaidan’s back to his ass. It really was spectacular. He wondered if he was into anal...

 “It’s a nice place,” Shepard said.

 “It does me good,” Kaidan mumbled, attention still on his coffee process. Pouring the hot water over the grounds, he used the press and slowly lowered it, Shepard observing how the motion quickly turned the clear water dark brown.

 Standing back, Kaidan rested his hands on the edge of the counter, the motion reminding Shepard a bit of Garrus behind his bar.

 “Where do you live?” Kaidan asked suddenly.

 For a second Shepard debated lying, but realized how fucked up that was. He had no reason to hide his humble origins—especially not to a guy who was so clearly well off. If Kaidan took issue with fucking some poor guy from the streets then that was his fucking issue.

 “Downtown Eastside,” he said casually.

 Kaidan raised his brows slightly. “Wow… rough area.”

 Shepard shrugged. “Not if you grew up there. You learn how to get through the day without getting jumped.”

 Kaidan chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. I think I’d stick out there like a sore thumb.”

 “If you were with me you’d fit right in. I’d protect you.” He winked. Kaidan returned it.

 Shepard hadn’t realized how much his shithole of an apartment had been bothering him, but now that Kaidan knew he was an Eastside kid—and that he hadn’t reacted negatively—made Shepard relax. He didn’t feel quite so out of place.

 Maybe Kaidan was more than just his money and a damn fine ass.

 “Ever had French Press coffee?” Kaidan asked as he grabbed two mugs from the cupboard above the sink.

 “Uh… not that I know of. I’m more a double double kind of guy,” he said.

 “Hey man, nothing wrong with Tim’s coffee,” Kaidan said. “Sugar and cream?”

 “Sure.”

 Shepard watched Kaidan while he prepared their coffee, taking note of how the sunlight made his bronze skin shimmer golden. His hair was still a total mess, and Shepard found himself reaching out to run his fingers through it.

 Kaidan paused his sugar scooping and leaned into the touch slightly.

 “Hey,” he mumbled, turning to face Shepard.

 “Hey…” Shepard ran his fingers through one more time, enjoying the thickness and how the curls tangled around his fingers.

 Was it so wrong to kiss your one-night stand the next morning?

 Shepard leaned in first with Kaidan closing the gap. Cupping the back of his head, he tried to deepen it immediately, but Kaidan kept it slow, lips pressing with purpose but lacking the lust behind it like last night. The kiss tasted horrible, if Shepard was going to be honest, but despite that…

 It felt good.

 “Your coffee will get cold,” he whispered when they parted.

 Kaidan chuckled. It had a husky touch to it, which sunk deep into Shepard’s chest and stayed there.

 Pulling away, Shepard bit Kaidan’s bottom lip playfully before taking an experimental sip of his coffee.

 “How is it?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard couldn’t tell a shit coffee from a good one, if he was going to be honest. But it did taste good.

 “It’s good,” he said, and took another sip. “Tastes like coffee and… you know, not cardboard.”

 Kaidan nodded and laughed again. “Well that’s good I guess.”

 He followed Kaidan into the living room. The room was less clean lines and uncluttered than the rest of the house. A massive leather couch was in the centre, and a reading chair across from it. Photographs lined one of the walls, and underneath it was a large wood desk covered in papers and books. The other side was a TV surrounded by bookshelves filled to the brim, most of the books very large and very expensive looking.

 Shepard let out a slow whistle.

 “It’s more my office than my living room by now,” Kaidan explained, tossing a pillow off the chair and flopping down on it.

 “Don’t have room for an office?” Shepard asked, wandering past the bookshelf. Tilting his head to the side he read the spines of a few. CPS 2015, Nuclear Oncology First Edition, Devita, Hellman and Rosenberg’s Cancer Tenth Edition…

_Blah, blah, blah._

 “I converted it into a personal gym.”

 Of course he did. Shepard was surprised last night to find Kaidan was buff underneath his sweater vest. Continuing on his investigation, Shepard drank his coffee and looked at the photos on the walls. Mostly family photos, a few vacation ones, and mixed in were multiple university degrees.

 Then he saw it.

 In the centre right above his desk was a family photograph. Kaidan was standing in between his parents, his mother on his left and to his right… a man in a police uniform.

 Kaidan’s father was a police officer.

  _I’ve just fucked a police officer’s son._

 His coffee suddenly tasted sour, and he swallowed the remaining mouthful with a grimace.

 “Are, uh… are those your parents?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

_Shit, shit, shit._

 Kaidan stood up and joined Shepard. “Yeah, those are my parents. Mum’s a retired real-estate agent and my dad’s a cop in the gang suppression unit.”

  _Oh for fuck—_

 “Who knows—you might have seen him around,” Kaidan joked. At least, Shepard thought he was joking.

 Placing his mug down on Kaidan’s desk, he looked around for a coaster but couldn’t find one.

_Shit, shit, shit._

 Shepard knew if he just took off Kaidan would suspect that he actually _was_ in a gang, but he _had_ to leave. The easy, relaxed time he was having couldn’t have lasted anyway—Kaidan had to have had something to make him utterly unattainable for Shepard, and clearly this was it. Good guys like this didn’t just fall into Shepard’s lap with no strings attached.

 He wasn’t that lucky.

 He had to make his exit look casual.

 “I should go,” he said abruptly.

_Smooth._

 “You sure?” Kaidan asked, “You haven’t finished your coffee.”

 “Yeah, I’m sure. I didn’t realize the time and I’ve got some stuff I need to do before I go into work.”

 Kaidan nodded. He looked like Shepard had just kicked him, and for once Shepard actually felt bad. But there was no way in hell he was sticking around. If Aria even knew he’d fucked a police officer’s son even by accident he’d be fucked. Literally—someone would chop of his dick and fuck him with it.

Grabbing his jacket from the floor beside the door he put it on, already feeling a bit better with it between himself and Kaidan. Kaidan stood by, silently watching. Shepard knew he shouldn’t have even looked at him again, but once more he just had to go and fuck it all up.

 Standing in the doorway Shepard took Kaidan in one last time. Clear brown eyes, dark bushy brows pressed tight together, and a small scar on his lip that twisted the more he frowned. His shirt was a dark grey and looked well-worn and so fucking inviting.

 Shepard wanted to kiss him again; taste him one last time so he could remember what it was like to feel like he was something more than just a gang banger on the street.

 He wanted to feel normal and… wanted.

 “I know this kind of… well, defeated the purpose, I guess, of a hook-up,” Kaidan began, “but maybe I could get your number? We could do this again.”

  _Fuck._

 “Coffee or fucking?” he found himself asking.

 “Both? Or just fucking if you want to keep it… distant… or something.”

 He knew he shouldn’t do it. It was so fucking stupid—the worst goddamn idea ever.

 “You got your phone?”

 Kaidan brightened and bent down to pick up his own discarded pants. Pulling his phone out, he passed it to Shepard. He put in his regular number quickly—double-checking to make sure it wasn’t his work phone—then gave it back.

 “Only for sex,” he said, ripping the door open. He didn’t look back as he strode down the hallway, desperate to get some fresh air and having a fucking smoke.

_I’m fucking a cop’s son._

XX

  Shepard pulled the door of his apartment open, the handle hitting an already deep dent from when Jack decided she’d had a bad day, too.

 “You gonna fucking fix that?” Jack called from the living room. She hadn’t even seen it.

 “Nope,” he said, slamming the door shut. Ripping off his jacket, he tossed it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs on his way into the living room.

 Jack was lying on the couch with a controller in her hand and some shooter video game on the television.

 “You playing that weird space game?” he asked. He rolled his shoulders back and forth, trying to get the kinks in his neck back. Kaidan’s bed as too soft; his _world_ was too soft.

 “Hey man, it’s not weird. It’s amazing. You’re just angry that I’m better at it than you.”

 Shepard stared at the screen for a bit, desperately trying to focus on it and not the fact that he smelled like Kaidan’s coffee and could taste him on his lips; still hear his sounds as he was beneath and feel his weight when he was on top.

_He’s a cop’s son and you’re a gang-banger. Remember your loyalties, Shepard. Nothing—not even a nice ass and a hard dick—is worth it._

  Jack gave him the briefest of glances before going back to shooting aliens with monstrously large teeth.

“You have a good night? Because you look like shit.”

 “Sucked a dick,” he said.

 “Hey man, good for you,” she said distractedly. “He suck yours?”

 “Yep.”

 “Nice.”

 “I’m going to go take a shower,” he said, already taking his shirt off as he strode down the hallway.

He had to get the scent of Kaidan off of him. He needed to clear his head and remember that he wasn’t out of his fucking goddamn mind. 

XX

  A week passed and Kaidan hadn’t called.

 Shepard figured it was for the best. Honestly, he was kind of hoping Kaidan would be the one to get some goddamn sense on the matter, because he knew he wasn’t going to. No matter how many times he told himself how fucked up it all was he just couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to be near him again.

 Instead of waiting for a call Shepard threw himself into work, doing whatever the hell Aria wanted him to. He felt oddly guilty over what had transpired over the weekend—like he should have known Kaidan’s dad was one of the men they regularly fucked with on the streets. Shepard had been raised to think of the police as the enemy; the guys that got in the way of them just living their lives the only way they knew how.

 Kaidan was the son of one of those men. That should have been enough for Shepard to close off all contact and to never want to see him again.

  _Should_ being the operative word.

 “You can’t come in here with that,” Wrex said, holding his hand out to stop Shepard.

 Shepard pulled the cigarette out from between his lips and stared at Wrex through the cloud of smoke. There was a tense silence between the two before...

 Wrex broke out into a huge grin and laughed. “I’m just fucking with you. But if Aria sees you with that…”

 “Ash on the floor is the least disgusting thing in this shithole,” Shepard said, taking a deep drag before dropping it on the wet sidewalk. “You hear about the fight the other night?”

 “Hear about it? I broke it up! And yeah, it was disgusting. I had to scrape blood and vomit off my boots for hours.”

 Shepard grimaced. “Yeah… glad I wasn’t there.”

 “If you were here you’d have been the one to instigate it! I’d have had to drag you out of it myself. You’d be crying like a baby, thanking me for your rescue. Again,” Wrex teased. Holding his belly, he chuckled to himself while Shepard entered Afterlife.

 Shepard could still hear him laughing even with the pounding music.

 Strolling down the hallway toward the main part of the club, Shepard kept his hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched. People lounged on the sofas that lined the walls, eyes shadowed and hands hidden, giving Shepard an itch in the back of his neck that he didn’t much like.

 He had a knife on him. It rested against his back, pressed in nice and close. It was a comforting presence and had gotten Shepard out of more than a few tight situations. He’d never used it for more than show. Bring a knife out in the middle of a fight and look like you knew how to use it, and most people backed off.

 Besides, he was pretty sure no one was stupid enough to attack one of Aria’s men in her own club. But Shepard didn’t lower his guard anywhere.

 Approaching the end of the entrance walkway, Shepard blinked back the bright flashing lights and swallowed the heavy base as it traveled through his body. It was still early yet, the dance floor almost empty save for a few early risers swaying to the steady beat. Up above the bar on raised podiums were the strippers—no, sorry, the _dancers_ —in their glittery outfits.

 Shepard hadn’t ever been one for dancing or clubs in general. There was something so entirely frivolous about the entire thing. It lowered your guard; made you look like an idiot.

 Plus, Shepard wasn’t very good at dancing.

 Prowling along the sidelines he gave the place a once-over, taking stock of who was there and which regulars were already drunk, before shouldering past a group huddled near the steps up to Aria’s office. Taking the stairs two at a time, he knocked twice before entering, only to find Jack sitting on Aria’s desk with a set of keys.

 “Took you long enough,” she said, jumping down from the desk.

 “Where the fuck is Aria?”

 Jack shrugged. “She had somewhere to be and left with Bray. I didn’t ask where to or why—and you shouldn’t either.”

 “And Finch?”

 Jack snorted. “We’re going to meet with that lawyer fuck Hock. You really think Aria would let Finch in on that?”

 Shepard was about to say she let Jack in on it, but decided against it. He felt like keeping his balls.

 “The package already to go?” he asked, following her down through the back steps.

 “Yep. Just gotta drop it off and we’re good to go.”

 Moklan was standing next to the SUV when they arrived, back pressed against the door and arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t say anything when he saw them; just nodded and stepped away to repeat the same pose beside the door they’d just come out.

 “I’m driving,” Shepard said, holding his hand out for the keys.

 “Uh… no, you’re fucking not. I’m driving.”

 Shepard glowered. “Last time you drove we got into a fucking street race.”

 “And we won, Shepard, so I don’t see what the big issue is,” Jack retorted. “Besides, last time you drove we lost the bottom of the goddamn car because you took it off a speed-bump!”

_Well… she has me there… fucking fuck._

 Glaring, he stomped around the back and threw himself into the passenger seat, ignoring the smug smirk Jack had on her face.

 Pulling out another cigarette he lit it and rolled down the window, watching the smoke curl out and disappear in the rain. He felt a buzz in his back pocket on the left.

 That wasn’t his work phone.

 Grunting, he fished it out and took a look at the screen. It was an unknown number, but the text was definitely from a familiar face.

_[10:23 PM] Unknown Number:_ _Hey, it’s Kaidan. You up for a study break?_

 Shepard tried not to smile when he saw the text. Covering it up with a cough, he shoved the cigarette into his mouth and continued to stare at the message.

 Kaidan wanted to do this again. He wasn’t kidding when they agreed to a fuck-buddy situation. The fact that stiff-upper lipped, university PhD student, son-of-a-cop Kaidan wanted a fuck-buddy relationship with a guy from the Eastside was…

 Really hot, actually.

_He’s a rich fuck, Shepard; a man out of your rank and station, and the son of a police officer to top it all off. If Aria knew she’d kick you out. Maybe even kill you to keep you quiet. By doing this you’re putting everything in jeopardy. Is this really fucking worth it?_

 “Hey… Jack. Mind if after we drop this package you go back to Afterlife without me?” he asked, heart hammering in his chest.

 “Uh… no. But why?”

 “I might get to fuck that guy again,” he admitted. He didn’t want to lie to Jack. He’d just… be vague. He was good at vague.

 Jack laughed. “Man, he must have really been good at sucking dick for you to go back. But… sure, I guess. If you _really_ want to.”

 “Thanks.”

 “Who am I to get in the way of gay ass-sex, hm?”

 Shepard rolled his eyes and added Kaidan’s number to his phone.

_[10:28 PM] Shepard: Be there in an hour._

 Taking a steadying breath, he went through the list of why this was a bad idea once again before he pressed send. The list was long, convincing, and made complete sense, while the reason to say yes was short and dumb and fucked up.

 But it won out in the end because of one simple fact: Shepard _wanted_ to see Kaidan again.

 He pressed the send button.

XX

 “You can’t bring that in here.”

 Shepard stopped just inside the double doors of Kaidan’s apartment and sent the doorman a look.

 “What?”

 “Your cigarette, sir,” the doorman explained. “You can’t bring that inside.”

 No one had ever called him ‘sir’ before.

 “Oh… yeah, okay,” Shepard mumbled. Stepping outside, he tossed the cigarette down on the ground and pressed it on to the cement with the tip of his boot. Entering once more, he tried to get closer to the elevator but was quickly stopped again.

“Are you here to see someone in particular?” the doorman asked, standing in Shepard’s way.

 Shepard could see he was nervous. He kept gripping his wrist with one hand while the other was balled into a fist, and the quiver in his shoulders belied the strength with which he appeared to hold himself upright. He glanced over Shepard’s shoulder a few times, attention going to the cigarette butt, looking at it like Shepard had killed a baby and lefts its corpse out on the steps for someone.

 “I’m just going to see a friend,” he said, trying to keep calm.

 He didn’t need this bullshit.

 “Ah, I see. And who might this friend be?”

 Shepard clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. Breathing through his nose, he counted to two before he opened his eyes and stared the doorman down. “His name is Kaidan. He lives up on the top floor. Fancy rich guy with black hair, brown eyes… fucks like a sailor on shore-leave.”

 “Oh… right,” the doorman said. He coughed into his hand and stepped out of the way. “Elevators are on your left.”

 Shepard grunted and shoved past the man. Practically punching the up button for the elevator, he stared straight ahead, jaw working back and forth. He didn’t deserve that shit—no one deserved that fucking shit.

 This was why he hated these people. Rich, mightier-than-thou fuckwits who thought they were better than everyone. Giving people shit just because they wanted to walk somewhere or visit someplace. Shepard didn’t need their approval; didn’t have to give their approval.

 But apparently he did.

 He debated walking out again. It wasn’t worth it; Kaidan wasn’t worth this humiliation. This _anger_.

 But when the doors opened Shepard stepped in, and when it asked for a floor he pressed Kaidan’s floor, and when the doors closed he didn’t try and slip through the crack and make a break for it. Instead he rode up perfectly still in an attempt to hide his excitement.

 Striding down the hallway, Shepard listened to his heavy footfalls and the occasional squeak from his boots. He was soaking wet and tracking all the water and mud inside with him. The doorman would probably have to clean it up.

 Small rebellions would have to do.

 Knocking on Kaidan’s door, Shepard shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at the floor, attention half on the door and half on the end of the hallway. Trying not to bounce on the balls of his feet, he kept still and steady.

 He didn’t want Kaidan to know how eager he was for this; didn’t want to admit to himself how excited he was just to see him.

  _This is just a fuck. Nothing more. You can’t_ let _it be more._

The door opened and Shepard looked up to see Kaidan standing there wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.

 “Hey,” Kaidan said, voice just as smoky as Shepard remembered it being.

 “Did someone order a study-break?” he found himself asking.

 Kaidan smiled. It made Shepard’s heart clench.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and Shepard try and define what they've got going on, and Ashley turns into Kaidan's Knight in Shining Armour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your support, you guys! I'm so happy you're enjoying this silly little fic, and I hope it continues to entertain you!

 Kaidan’s shoulders always ached.

 When he’d first started lab work no one had warned him how many hours he’d spend hunched over desks looking through books, Petri dishes, and lab results. On the list of ‘Important Things My Professor Forgot to Mention’ it was fairly low, but that didn’t make it any less of a pain in the neck—quite literally.

 One thing was helping with that pain, however.

 “You spend way too much time in front of your computer,” Shepard mumbled, strong fingers digging into the knots in Kaidan’s shoulders.

 Grimacing, Kaidan grunted as Shepard dug particularly hard into a stubborn ball of stress. “It’s a living,” he said.

 “Not my kind of living.”

 Kaidan smiled. “Because your life is so stress free.”

 “At least I’m not cooped up in a lab. Wandering the streets and shoving around drunken club goers keeps the shoulders loose and the back relaxed. Plus…” he pushed hard into the muscle and Kaidan let out a low wheeze, “it’s great for stress relief. You wouldn’t believe how satisfying it is to tell some piss-off he can’t go back in and continue to harass the dancers.”

 “Maybe we should trade jobs. Maybe for a week or something.”

 Shepard laughed. “You’d get your ass kicked in about five minutes.”

 Shepard rested his chin on his shoulder, and Kaidan leaned back into his embrace. It was getting late, the sun setting over the mountains in the distance, but Kaidan couldn’t find it in himself to get back to work. Not when his ‘study break’ had come on such short notice.

 He and Shepard had been screwing around with each other for a little over three weeks. Whenever Kaidan needed something to calm his mind and release his stress he’d text Shepard, and more often than not Shepard would appear with a condom in his pocket and a body Kaidan could lose himself in. It was casual and relaxing and so goddamn _good_. It was a break for both of them; a little breather in a world that tried its hardest to choke them with responsibility and expectations. It was freedom in its purest form.

 No one knew about Shepard—not even Liara. He was Kaidan’s secret; his escape. When he was tucked inside him, sharing the same breath and beating the same heartbeat, Kaidan felt incredible.

 And Shepard…

 Shepard was a force all his own. Kaidan hadn’t expected the return text the first time, and he certainly hadn’t expected him to keep coming around. Kaidan knew they were two different people. He was wealthy while Shepard had come from less than humble beginnings; he was a doctorate student while Shepard hadn’t finished high school, and while Kaidan was _given_ dignity and respect by virtue of his last name, Shepard had to fight for his.

 But Kaidan felt a connection to him all the same, and sometimes he figured maybe Shepard did, too.

 It was hard to tell with him. Shepard was a closed off man, never giving anything away. He held himself like he was ready to fight, and his eyes were always on Kaidan, watching him unabashedly and without reserve. He’d sit on Kaidan’s bed completely naked, cock hard and heavy and lips parted, and yet Kaidan never felt like he was showing him his everything even then.

 He was wild; he was dangerous; he was everything Kaidan wasn’t.

 And Kaidan loved it.

 But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to know more. Shepard was a mystery Kaidan _wanted_ to solve. But he didn’t know if he’d ever get to. Shepard was as cagey as he was intense, and rarely stuck around for more than an hour after they fucked.

 The shoulder massage was a new thing.

 “I know how to throw a punch,” Kaidan said, dropping his head back against Shepard’s shoulder. “In fact, I know how to disarm a guy.”

 “Yeah?”

 “Yep.”

 “And where did you learn that?” Shepard asked. His breath was hot against his cheek and his stubble rubbed pleasantly.

 “My dad. He is a cop so, you know, he taught me stuff growing up.”

 He felt Shepard tense slightly, and he caught his smile falter out of the corner of his eyes. It was just a brief hiccup, however, as he was once again relaxing, nose pressing against Kaidan’s neck.

 Kaidan wasn’t a fool. A guy like Shepard didn’t trust cops—it was to be expected.

 “But that was in controlled conditions,” Shepard said. He kissed behind Kaidan’s ear and dragged his fingers along his arms, Kaidan’s breath hitching when his earlobe was caught between soft lips.

 “Yeah… still… I know how to handle myself,” Kaidan mumbled, eyes closing as Shepard’s fingertips danced along the pulse points on his wrists.

 “What if someone did this?” Shepard asked.

 He was about to ask what ‘this’ was, when Shepard grabbed his wrist and wrenched his arm behind his back. In a split-second he went from sitting to lying, Shepard rolling him over on to the mattress, his face pressed into the sheets while Shepard straddled his waist, holding him down with his body weight.

 Kaidan lay on the bed in a daze. That was… impressive. And sort of painful. He wiggled his hand experimentally, testing Shepard’s strength. Shepard’s grip on him was loose, and Kaidan knew he could fight him off he wanted to. Instead he stayed limp.

 Turning his head he spit out a mouthful of blanket. “I’d uh… probably get my ass kicked?” he suggested.

 Shepard chuckled. “At least you admit it.”

 “Maybe you could teach me how to get out of something like this,” Kaidan suggested.

 “You want me to teach you how to brawl?”

 Kaidan tried to shrug but just ended up pissing off the already irritated knot in his shoulder. “It could be fun.”

 Shepard snorted. “Yeah, maybe…”

 The grip around his wrist disappeared, as did Shepard’s weight. Rolling on to his back Kaidan watched as Shepard began to collect his clothes.

  _And there he goes…_

 “You want something to eat before you go?” he asked, scratching his stomach. They’d fucked twice and Kaidan was starved.

 “Uh… what do you have?” he asked, head ducked as he did his belt up.

 “Well… I think I have some leftover Chinese… some frozen lasagnas… beer, but that’s not really food. I got some steak, too.”

 “Got any fruit?”

 Kaidan quirked a brow. “Yeah… yeah I think so.”

 Sliding off the bed, he pulled on a pair of boxers and his hoodie before heading to the kitchen, a fully clothed Shepard following close behind. Grabbing the fruit bowl from beside the sink, he slid it across the island toward Shepard.

 “Take whatever you want,” he said.

 Opening his fridge, he pulled out the Chinese leftovers and turned around to see Shepard carefully washing an apple.

 “You sure you don’t want some Chinese?” he asked, tossing the containers on to the counter. “Plenty enough for the both of us.”

 Shepard shook his head, cheeks stuffed with apple. Swallowing, he brushed the back of his hand across his mouth. “I’m fine with the apple. Thanks.”

 One day he’d get Shepard to agree to a proper meal; one where he could get to know him better. He’d find out if he had any family, what his favourite colour was—what his _first_ name was. Little, simple things that Kaidan desperately wanted to know, but Shepard held close to his chest like it was the best poker-hand he’d ever been given.

  _One day…_

 There was a knock at the door. The sound hit Kaidan deep in his chest. The only person who would come to his place was Shepard, and he was standing next to him with a matching surprised expression.

 “You expecting someone?” Shepard asked.

 Kaidan shook his head. “Not that I can remember…”

 Abandoning his food he went to get the door, leaving Shepard in the kitchen with a half-eaten apple in hand. Looking through the peephole, Kaidan saw a familiar face waiting rather impatiently.

 He opened the door a crack and stuck his head through. “Hey, Ashley.”

 “Hey—you’re alive,” she said, and shoved her way inside. She had a duffle bag over her shoulder, a water bottle in her hand, and a pink tinge to her cheeks that told Kaidan she’d just come from hockey practice.

 “Uh, what are you doing here?” he asked.

 “I’m here for a ‘Hello! It’s nice to see you, Kaidan! I missed you’ visit. It’s the customary thing to do between people. Like when best friends come and see each other after being MIA for weeks at a time,” she said, not even attempting to hide the annoyance in her voice.

 “I haven’t been MIA, Ash. I’ve just been busy with… things.”

 “You missed tapas last weekend.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on the floor. “You never miss tapas.”

 “Sorry?”

 She sighed loudly. “Seriously, Kaidan, what is up with you? What’s so important that you couldn’t have even called to say you were busy? We’re all worried about you—especially Liara. She had it in her head you were—”

 “I’m fine, Ashley,” he said, throwing his hand up to stop her from continuing the third-degree. “I just got caught up with other things. I’m sorry I didn’t call—that was a mistake. But I’m fine; I swear. I’ve just been busy.”

 There was movement at the end of the hallway, and before Kaidan could intercede Ashley saw just what he was busy with. Shepard stood in the doorway, leather jacket on and an unlit cigarette behind his ear. He had the look of someone who thought he could make a break for it without being seen, and was now in the uncomfortable predicament of having been caught.

 Ashley’s brows rose marginally.

 “Who is this, Kaidan?” she asked slowly.

 “Uh… well, uh… this is Shepard. He’s a…”

 He sent Shepard a furtive look, unsure of _what_ they were.

 “A friend,” Shepard finished.

 It was Kaidan’s turn to raise his eyebrows. Shepard had never said they were friends. Were they friends? Was this what they’d become now? Is that _what_ they were? Friends? Just two guys who fucked and were friends? Did people become friends with their one-night stands that turned into triple-week stands?

 “Uh huh… a friend…” Ashley repeated.

 “Hey, so I should go,” Shepard said quickly, breaking Kaidan out of his run-around thoughts. “Thanks for the apple and the… yeah.”

 Kaidan nodded and stepped out of the way, giving Shepard room to put on his shoes. “Yeah, for sure. You should go if you have to.”

 Slipping past both he and Ashley, Shepard paused in front of Kaidan, the two so close their chests brushed. Kaidan desperately wanted to steal one last kiss—taste the apple on Shepard’s lips and secure a promise that they’d do this again. And soon.

  But the moment was lost as soon as Ashley dropped her duffel bag down beside her, plastic and metal hooks clacking on the hardwood floor. Shepard rolled his eyes and bumped Kaidan playfully with his hip as he continued past. Putting on his shoes in record speed, he turned around, his hands shoved in his jacket’s pockets as if to physically stop himself from reaching out.

 “So I’ll see you later?” Kaidan suggested, ever mindful that Ashely was still there, watching the entire exchange with a smirk on her lips.

 “Yeah, probably. I’m busy this weekend with work, but if you’re not busy in the morning or… you know, whenever.”

 Kaidan nodded. “I’ll text you.”

 Shepard grunted and sent Kaidan a lazy salute before he was gone, leaving Kaidan to deal with his ‘best friend’. Shutting the door after him, Kaidan rested his forehead against the door and breathed evenly through his nose.

  _So much for my little secret…_

 Turning around he brushed past Ashley, ignoring the judgement in her expression.

 “So… busy, huh?” she asked as she followed him down the hallway into the kitchen. “I can see why. He’s pretty hot. I mean, in a slightly dangerous, might be a drug dealer kind of a way.”

 Kaidan continued to ignore her. Grabbing his leftovers he shoved them into a bowl and threw it into the microwave, paying no attention to how Ashley had just called Shepard a drug dealer.

 “Where did you meet him?” she asked.

 “A party,” Kaidan said, pulling out a pair of chopsticks.

 “The party from a few weeks ago?”

 “Yep.”

 “Damn. I thought you went home because you had a migraine. If I’d have known you were going to screw around with some gangster in a leather jacket I’d have—”

 “Insisted I take Tali home?” he asked quickly. “I’m an adult, Ashley, and I can make my own decisions.”

  Ashley held her hands up in surrender. “Hey, I wasn’t judging, Kaidan. I’m just… surprised. I never thought you were the type to pick a guy up. You usually… I don’t know, court the person for a bit. And you also _tell_ us about it.”

 And this was why Kaidan didn’t tell anyone about Shepard. He didn’t want to deal with the guilt-trip and the ‘That doesn’t sound like you’ speeches. He was Mr. Dependable—the respectable guy with the respectable career choice. But that wasn’t who he wanted to be; not all the time. Sometimes it was nice to just be irrational and spontaneous—to seize life by the horns and go for it, damn the consequences. He’d lived so much of his life a slave to his expectations and medical issues that now that he had the chance to really _live_ , everyone was surprised when he took those opportunities. 

 He wasn’t the sickly kid in the ward, waiting for his next round of treatment anymore. He was an adult who wanted to ‘screw around’ with the dangerous guy in the leather jacket with a James Dean pout. Fuck dependability.

 But the jig was up. Ashley was going to tell everyone and suddenly Kaidan’s perfect little bubble was popped. He could already imagine the lecture he’d get from Liara. And Miranda was going to have his ass if she found out his paper was a day late because he’d been with a guy.

 “I’m sorry about interrupting…” Ashley said quietly.

 Kaidan sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. Now Ashley was apologizing and he felt like a dick for being so upset.

  _Great._

 “Don’t apologize,” he said. Shoving his chopsticks in his food, he swirled the noodles around. “He was about to leave anyways, and I needed to get back to my lab reports.”

 Ashley nodded and leaned against the counter. Fiddling with her water bottle, Kaidan watched the small smile reappear.

 “He really is hot,” she said.

 Kaidan chuckled. “Yeah, he’s hot.”

 “I don’t want details, but is he… I mean, is he worth skipping tapas for?”

 “Definitely,” Kaidan said.

 “You know your dad is going to freak if he finds out.”

 Kaidan shrugged and took a mouthful of food. Chewing carefully, he swallowed and reached for Ashley’s water. Drinking what was left, he passed it back and grabbed his bowl, heading to the living room with it.

 “It’s why he’ll never find out,” he said over his shoulder. Collapsing on the couch, he scooted over to give Ashley some room to sit next to him. “Besides, Shepard isn’t a gangster or a drug dealer. He’s a bouncer…”

 Ashley hummed. “Right, okay. What’s his first name then?”

 Kaidan paused. “Uh… it’s… Shepard.”

 Ashley rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know his first name? God, K, he must really be something if you’re willing to invite him into your house without even knowing his first name. Also—that leather jacket is too nice not to be blood money.”

 Kaidan dropped his chopsticks into the bowl with a clatter. “Seriously, Ash? First a drug dealer, then a gangster—now an assassin?”

 “You never know, K…” she singsonged as she sat down on the armrest of the couch. Kaidan could tell a part of her teasing was more serious than she was letting on. She had decided his personality the second she saw him, and it was up to Shepard to change that view.

 Kaidan suspected Shepard didn’t really care what she thought either way.

 “So what’s going on with you and Mr. Shepard?” she asked. “You two dating or what?”

 “We’re just… friends. Actually we’re more like… fuck buddies? I don’t know, really. I think… it’s just really unclear. We haven’t talked about it and I’m not sure I want to. You know, in case he decides I’m making it more complicated than what he wants. I’m cool with just the way things are.”

 Ashley gave him a look.

 “What?”

 “Nothing,” she said. “I’m saying nothing. It just sounds really complicated.”

 Kaidan shrugged and shoved his food around, skewering a dumpling with the tip of one of the chopsticks. “It didn’t used to be. But recently things have started to change.”

 “How so?”

 “Shepard has been more… I don’t know how to describe it, but he’s more willing to… relax with me. We don’t always have to be having sex, you know? He’ll come over and we’ll hang out for a bit before we get to it. Or he’ll sit and chat afterward. Whereas before he’d just take off, you know?”

 “And how does that make you feel?” Ashley asked, hand stroking her chin.

 Kaidan snorted and shoved her with his elbow. “Don’t try and make this more than it is, Ash. It’s just… it’s a fun break from it all. He and I are just… we are what we are. And I’m fine with that.”

 Even if he did sort of kind of maybe want to at least be friends with Shepard. And learn his first name. Now that Ashley had pointed it out, it was a bit risky—no, strike that—fucking _stupid_ to continually invite a guy over who only gave his last name.

 Ashley was right: his father would be pissed at him if he knew.

 “Well… be careful,” Ashley said. Her expression had gone from playful to serious, brows furrowed slightly, “because if he hurts you I’ll be forced to ruin that pretty mug of his.”

 Kaidan smiled. “Yeah, of course. And hey, Ash?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Can you maybe… not tell everyone, yet? I kind of want to keep this on the down-low…”

 She nodded. “Sure. But if you don’t tell Liara and Tali at some point, I might explode. And that’s going to be on _you_.”

XX

 “—so it got everywhere. _Everywhere,_ Kaidan. The lab was completely contaminated and all because he couldn’t keep his hand steady when it mattered the most. And you know what the worst thing was about it? He insisted he could do it and replaced me. He replaced _me_.”

 “That sucks, Miranda,” Kaidan mumbled. Fiddling with his pen, he circled a few numbers and underlined another.

 “I swear, next time he tries that again I’ll… I’ll…”

 Kaidan glanced up from his data readings to look across the desk at Miranda. “You’ll…?”

 She was staring at the wall behind Kaidan, jaw working back and forth and pen pressed against her lips. There was a fire in her eyes, one that told Kaidan he needed to steer clear of her for the remainder of the day.

 Sighing loudly she tossed her pen down on to her papers and shook her head. “I don’t know what just yet, but it won’t be good.”

 “Veetor was just trying to make an impression. He’s new so… cut him some slack?” he suggested.

 Miranda’s nostrils flared. “I don’t think you understand how much time it’s going to take to clean the lab. We’re locked out of it for a week until they can decontaminate it.”

 “We’ve got plenty to do right here,” Kaidan said as calmly as he could. He could feel a headache coming on, and Miranda’s ranting under the florescent lighting wasn’t helping matters.

  She stood abruptly, almost knocking over Kaidan’s mug of pencils. “I’m going to get a coffee. Do you want anything?”

 “Nah, I’m good.”

 She nodded and strode off, heels clicking primly against the linoleum. Going back to his data, he began circling more numbers that needed to be double checked, trying to get actual work done while the rest of the lab sat and twiddled their thumbs.

  _Fridays…_

 Just as he was getting back into his work Kaidan’s phone buzzed as if on cue. Normally he wouldn’t have checked, but normally the name ‘Shepard’ didn’t read across the top of the screen. It was always Kaidan who texted first—never Shepard.

Sitting back in his chair, he slipped his pen behind his ear and opened up the message.

_[4:34 PM] Shepard: You free?_

  _[4:35 PM] Kaidan: At the lab. Why?_

He tossed his phone back down on the desk, screen side down, and tried to get back to work while he waited. But he couldn’t concentrate. All he could do was stare at his phone, waiting for it to buzz again.

 It did.

_[4:37] Shepard: You at the lab all night? Want to get together later?_

_[4:38] Kaidan: I thought you were working the doors at your club?_

_[4:38] Shepard: Got cancelled. You want to do something or not._

 Kaidan chewed on his bottom lip. He knew what Shepard had in mind, but maybe… maybe he’d be able to convince him to grab dinner first.

_[4:40] Kaidan: Sure. Did you want to get dinner first?_

_[4:41] Shepard: I’d rather eat your ass._

 Kaidan cleared his throat, cheeks going pink. He subtly rolled his chair so the back was against the wall. He did not need someone creeping up on him now.

 He honestly should have just told him he would see him later and gotten back to work, but a tiny thrill ran through him at the thought of keeping the conversation going. Sneaking a glance around the room, Kaidan noted that other than himself and three other students sitting in their respective corner watching cat videos, he was completely alone…

  _[4:43] Kaidan: You good at eating ass?_

_[4:43] Shepard: The best._

_[4:43] Kaidan: I thought you were the best at sucking cock?_

_[4:44] Shepard: Can’t I be the best at both?  I’ll lick your hole until you’re begging for me to stop._

_[4:45] Kaidan: Why would I want you to stop?_

_[4:45] Shepard: It’s an expression, Kaidan. Do you have to be so literal?_

 Kaidan chuckled and wrote a response quickly, minding the door next to him.

_[4:46] Kaidan: Sorry. Continue._

_[4:47] Shepard: I’ll lick and kiss your tight hole. While I’m doing that I’ll grab your ass cheeks and rub and knead them in my hands. Then I’ll tease you with just the tip of my tongue. Slide it all around before_

 There was nothing more.

 Kaidan waited impatiently. Before what? Before _what_?!

_[4:49] Kaidan: Before what?_

_[4:50] Shepard: Boss called. Gotta go._

 Kaidan could have slammed his head down on the top of his desk. Instead he almost slammed his knee on the bottom of his desk when Miranda gracefully deposited herself across from him, coffee in hand and a look on her face like she knew what he was doing.

 “You’ve gotten nowhere on that report,” she said curtly. “Have you been texting this entire time?”

 Kaidan glowered. “No, I’ve been playing solitaire,” he lied.

 It seemed to have worked. She quirked a brow but said nothing more, instead going back to work like Kaidan knew he should be doing.

 It was just hard when all he could think about was Shepard’s face shoved against places the sun didn’t shine. Bringing his texts back up, he re-read Shepard’s last message before cursing his boss—whoever the fuck they were.

  _[4:55] Kaidan: I’ll be home around eight if you want to come and show me what was next_.

XX

 Shepard made good on his claims of being the best at rimming, and also secured the title of best at fingering while he was at it.

 Kaidan lay spread out on his bed, chest heaving and stomach coated in cum, a delirious laugh breaking out as Shepard lifted his head and grinned down at him.

 “Holy fuck,” he panted out. Stretching underneath Shepard, Kaidan ran a hand through his hair, limbs still heavy from the mind-blowing orgasm he’d just had.

 Shepard sat back between his legs and brushed away some spit from his bottom lip. “I told you,” he said, still grinning.

 “Did you come?” he asked. He tried to sit up but Shepard pushed him back down. Lining their bodies up perfectly, Shepard lay down on Kaidan, chest to chest and stomach to stomach. Grabbing his wrists, Shepard slipped his hands in Kaidan’s own, fingers tangling as Shepard pressed lazy kisses against his neck.

 “Yep,” he mumbled, nipping Kaidan’s earlobe. “Rubbed up against the mattress while you were finishing. The sounds you make… fuck, Kaidan.”

 Warmth curled in Kaidan’s guts, and he squeezed Shepard’s hands quickly. “You should hear yourself.”

 Shepard lifted his head and squinted down at Kaidan. “I don’t make noises when I fuck.”

 “Not loud ones, but you do make them. It’s deep in chest. And it’s really sexy,” Kaidan said, nipping Shepard’s bottom lip. Shepard was heavy and more than a little hot on top like this, but Kaidan loathed the thought of Shepard moving. Like this, Kaidan could feel the rumble of his voice and taste the sweat on his skin.

 “Compared to you I’m a fucking mute,” Shepard said, chewing on his bottom lip right where Kaidan had just bit.

 Kaidan laughed. “Yeah, I can get kinda loud. My last girlfriend was embarrassed by it.”

 Shepard’s expression changed then. The playfulness was gone, replaced with an uncertainty in his gaze. Kaidan wasn’t used to seeing that look on Shepard. He was usually so confident.

 “You surprised I date women?” he asked. Taking his hands back, Kaidan wrapped his arms around Shepard’s waist, keeping him locked in nice and close, just in case he decided ‘share time’ was over and tried to bolt.

 “No, it’s not that. I just… never thought about you with anyone before me,” he said softly. “I mean yeah, I knew you’d been with people before, but… I dunno. It’s stupid.”

 Shepard began playing with Kaidan’s hair, fingers that had just been teasing Kaidan to the brink now uncharacteristically gentle as they ran through his thick curls.

 “You just didn’t think about it,” Kaidan said, “makes sense to me. I don’t really like thinking about you practicing your rimming skills on other guys, so… I guess we’re in the same boat.”

 Shepard smiled slightly. “I guess.”

 “Does the thought of me with other people bother you?” Kaidan prompted.

 It was a loaded question and he regretted asking it almost immediately. He couldn’t even get Shepard to agree to go out for food with him. Asking him if he was jealous was like asking him if he wanted to get married. It was also, in a roundabout way, like asking Shepard if he wanted to be exclusive.

 But to Kaidan’s surprise Shepard didn’t do his usual evasive maneuver, which was to quite literally run away. He stayed right where he was, attention on Kaidan’s hair and not his face. Despite his relaxed manner, however, Kaidan could see he was considering the question, brows furrowed and gaze fixed on one particular strand of hair.

 “I haven’t been seeing anyone else while we’ve been fucking,” Shepard said after a time, “and I haven’t wanted to be with anyone else.”

 Kaidan tried to hide his smile. “Uh… I haven’t either…” he said slowly, “been with anyone or wanted to, I mean.”

 Shepard cleared his throat and finally looked Kaidan in the eyes. “Good. Cool. So we’re… cool.”

 “Totally cool.”

 Well there it was. They were exclusive… whatever that meant within the context of their vaguely defined relationship. 

 Shepard kissed him then—hard and demanding. Immediately Kaidan responded, his hands wandering down to grip Shepard’s ass, pulling him in close as they began to rub together. He felt Shepard respond against him, and let out a soft moan when they broke apart, Shepard’s pupils dilating when he heard it.

 Bringing him in for another fierce kiss, Kaidan rolled Shepard on to the bed, switching their positions. Straddling his waist Kaidan began rubbing himself against Shepard, his hands braced on his chest. Kaidan watched the muscles in Shepard’s neck stretch and strain, the flex of his jaw, and the parting of his lips with an eager eye.

 Shepard was with him now. It was just the two of them—no one else getting to taste Shepard and hear Shepard and fuck Shepard. The thought of that turned Kaidan on more than he expected it would, and as he worked himself on top he couldn’t help but press his luck.

 “I want to take you out for dinner next weekend,” he panted.

 Shepard paused and stared up at Kaidan. His hands, which had been gripping his hips hard, relaxed.

 “What?”

 “It’s not a date,” Kaidan explained quickly, “it'll be just us—as friends—going out for dinner. No strings attached or anything. I just… I want us to be friends.”

 In Kaidan’s head his confession sounded more suave and sophisticated. Instead he sounded like a child on the playground asking the cool kid to be his friend.

 “You… want to have dinner with me?” Shepard repeated.

 “As friends,” Kaidan affirmed.

 Shepard continued to stare. The corners of his jaw twitched.

 Finally…

 “Sure.”

 Kaidan grinned, a sigh of relief slipping out.  “Okay… okay, great.”

 “What did you have in mind?”

 “Burgers?”

 Shepard shrugged and grabbed Kaidan’s hips again. “Sounds good. But can we pick a place after I fuck you?”

 Laughing, Kaidan agreed and started to move again.

Now he could tell Ashley with confidence what they were: two friends who fucked a lot and sometimes went out for dinner. And slept exclusively with each other. But weren’t dating.

 Simple and straightforward.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys! Thanks so much for the support! I'm so happy you're all liking things so far, and seem really excited to see what happens next. These two guys are gigantic saps and it just gets even sappier. 
> 
> But first, some blasted, not so happy, reality...

 It was a bad idea to do business with your run of the mill drug addict. They were notoriously unreliable, nervous and distant, and had a tendency to lie straight through their teeth—if they still had any teeth after years of narcotic abuse, that was. And yet, despite the glaringly obvious reasons one should deal with drug addicts it was, in essence, Omega’s entire business.

 Drugs needed to be sold to someone, and who better than the unreliable, lying, nervous wreck of a person who lived in the dilapidated apartment across the street? Dealing with drug addicts was Aria’s job—without them she had no business. Of course, it wasn’t as if she was just going to let the addicts dictate how she ran her operations. She’d be good to you so long as you were good to her; buy the product, pay on time, and never try to swindle her, and you’d be a loyal, valued customer of the Omega Cocaine Empire.

 Fuck with her, though, and she had safeguards in place to make sure you never did it again.

 Shepard was one of those safeguards.

 “Why we gotta wait out in the rain in the middle of the afternoon?” Finch asked. He sneezed and took a sip of his coffee, grimacing as the heat scalded his tongue.

“Because our guy frequents this bar,” Shepard said. Leaning up against the brick façade of the building, he kept as close to the wall as he could so as to stay under the shop window’s awning. The rain was coming down in a steady stream, raindrops fat and plentiful. Crisp early November air sunk deep into Shepard’s bones, and he clutched his coffee a little tighter, holding the rim close to his lips so the steam warmed the tip of his nose.

 “But it’s the middle of the day.”

 Shepard sighed. “Yeah, and he’s _always_ here.”

 “In the _middle_ of the day?”

  _Don’t let him get to you, Shepard. He’s just doing this on fucking purpose because he’s a fucking dick._

“ _Yes_ , in the middle of the day. He’s a fucking alcoholic, dude. They don’t care what time of day it is.”

 Finch huffed and put his coffee on top of the newspaper box next to him. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a crumpled Tim’s bag and peered inside.

 “Boston cream… nice. Thanks, Shep.”

 Shepard shrugged. If buying him a shit doughnut kept him quiet for even five seconds it was worth the dollar and Finch’s misguided belief that he cared.

 “So you’re sure what’s his name comes here often?” Finch asked through a mouthful of doughnut.

 “Pretty sure. I talked with the owner last night; he said Bob’s a regular.”

 “You’re pretty eager to get this done, eh,” Finch said. Resting his shoulder against the wall, he grinned at Shepard with chocolate coated lips. “You got something better to do?”

 Shepard shrugged again. He did, but he wasn’t going to let Finch know that.

 He and Kaidan were doing their ‘friendship’ dinner later, and Shepard didn’t want to miss it. A part of him—okay, _all_ of him—was excited to see Kaidan in a less intimate and more casual setting. Despite Kaidan’s insistence that it was just a friend thing, Shepard was pretty sure Kaidan was hoping it was a date thing. Shepard wasn’t quite sure what he wanted it to be, but didn’t dwell on his feelings too much. He’d just go in and let the mood dictate for him. Overthinking shit just made him pissed off. He went with his gut; it had always served him well.

 Placing his coffee beside Finch’s, he fished out a cigarette from his back pocket and lit up.

 “You have anywhere better to be?” Shepard asked.

 “Maybe I do; maybe I don’t. None of your business,” Finch said casually.

 Shepard rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop from smiling. “Hey man, the aloof asshole is my thing. You’re the chatty prick.”

 Finch laughed and ate the rest of his doughnut. Swallowing, he brushed the corners of his lips with his fingers.

 “But seriously, dude—you’ve been gone a lot lately. Haven’t seen you tailing Aria or doing runs with Jack. You got something going on the rest of us ain’t supposed to know about? A new side-gig? A new _love_?” Finch teased.

 “I’ve just been busy,” Shepard mumbled. He took another long drag of his cigarette and stared across the street through the smoke and rain. “If you’d bother to come to Afterlife on the weekend you’d have seen me working the door. Grunt’s been in and out of the hospital after some fuckers ganged up on him.”

 It was the truth. While Shepard had been spending his free time with Kaidan, he _worked_ for Aria. It was her word that dictated what Shepard did, and some pretty guy with a sweet smile and a damn fine ass wasn’t going to change that.

 Still, if Finch—one of the most oblivious guys he knew—was noticing his absence…

 He coughed into his hand and hunkered in closer to the wall. Finch was just talking shit. Shepard wandered away from the main gang often—he always had. The only one who knew he was fucking someone regularly was Jack, and she’d never rat him out.

 Finch was just being a nosey bugger; that was it.

 “Grunt’s still in the hospital? Shit…” Finch let out a slow whistle. “Do you think they were Blood Pack?”

 Shepard flicked ash from his smoke down on to the ground before taking another drag. “Maybe,” he said through the smoke. “We don’t know for sure, so until then we’re going to assume it was just some drunk fucks. Aria doesn’t want to start another turf war based on hunches. Got it?”

 Finch shot Shepard a lazy salute. “Got it.”

 They stood in wet silence for a time, Shepard finishing up his smoke while Finch fiddled with the tab on his coffee lid. Cars drove past and people hurried by, but no one came in or out of the bar.

 “Mind if I go take a piss? This coffee is—aw shit.”

 Shepard turned to look at whatever Finch was groaning about, only to see a cop car come around the corner. Shepard stood his ground, and it was only a menacing glare from him (and the fact that he’d not finished his coffee) that kept Finch from bolting. The car pulled up slowly and stopped in front of them, and Shepard couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he saw who stepped out.

 Deputy Chief Constable Anderson—the thorn in Shepard’s morality and one of the truly alright cops in the entire greater Vancouver area.

 As far as cops went Anderson wasn’t so bad. He never hassled anyone for petty, small time things, preferring to concentrate on the bigger picture—shit like murders, robberies, and criminal drug rings. Shepard ran into him during his early corner boy days, back when Anderson was still a beat-cop and not higher in the ranks (and higher in the pay scale). Shepard had been caught with pot on him, but instead of throwing him in for the night, Anderson confiscated it and gave him fifty bucks—forty to give to Aria so he didn’t get in shit for losing their merchandise, and ten to keep for himself.

 Shepard ended up saving his share. He still had the bill in his wallet—his good luck charm, if he was feeling particularly sentimental.

 Since then they’d built a rapport, much to Shepard’s annoyance. Anderson talked to him like he was actually _worth_ something. In fact, he seemed downright convinced of Shepard’s potential. It had been ten years since he’d met him, and Anderson always tried to prove to Shepard that he could be more than the gang banger he was.

 Shepard didn’t get it. Anyone with half a brain would have given up on him long ago. And yet Anderson kept coming by…

 “You sure it’s a good idea to stand out in the rain like this?” Anderson asked. He put his cap on and wandered over to stand under the awning with Shepard.

 Shepard sighed and grabbed his coffee. Finch continued to fidget on the other side of the newspaper box.

 “I’m not out in the rain,” Shepard said, nodding his head up to the awning.

 Anderson chuckled. “Guess you’re right. So how have you been holding up, Shepard? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

 “See!” Finch yelled, then immediately shut his mouth. Coughing into his hand, he grabbed his coffee and turned around, back hunched over as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

 “I’ve been alright,” Shepard said, attention still fixed on the bar door. “You’ve been gone a lot lately, too.”

 “Paper work,” Anderson said, and Shepard detected a hint of loathing in his words. “Sometimes I wish I could go back to the days of when I was just a simple beat-cop. Walking the streets, talking to the locals, making sure everyone was fine… but now I’ve got an entire district to look after, and young ones like you to make sure haven’t gone and done anything stupid.”

 “I’ve been keeping out of trouble,” Shepard said.

_Just fucking one of your colleagues son’s…._

 Anderson hummed. He gave Finch a once over before patting Shepard’s arm. “Keep it up.”

 Anderson went back to his car then, but before he got in Shepard found himself calling his name.

 “Hey, Anderson!”

 Anderson stopped mid-entry and peered at Shepard over the roof of the car. “Yes?”

 Flipping the hood up on his hoodie, he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and strode out into the rain, ignoring Finch’s inquiring looks. Standing on the other side of the car, he bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if he was going to regret all of this immediately afterward.

 “You know of a guy in the gang crime unit? An Alenko or something?”

 “Officer Alenko? Yeah, I know the guy. Why? Has he been giving you trouble?”

 Shepard paused. He didn’t expect Anderson to ask if he was getting trouble from a cop. Usually it was cops asking if _he’d_ been the one causing trouble.

 “Nah, he’s fine. I think. I was just curious if he was a good man or whatever.”

 “And who wants to know? Is this for your boss, or a personal matter?”

 “Personal. I… I know his son.”

 Anderson shrugged. “He seems fine to me. No marks on his record; honest cop, for the most part. Dealing with you guys on a regular basis would drive anyone crazy, but he keeps himself together.”

 He smiled.

 Shepard nodded. “Okay… good to know. Thanks.”

 “You going to tell me what this is about?” Anderson asked.

 “Nope.” Shepard turned around and resumed his place under the awning. Anderson stared a moment longer before getting into his car and driving off, leaving Shepard to his ambiguously legal dealings.

 “What a fucking dick, eh?” Finch said.

 Shepard grimaced. He didn’t like cops, but he liked Anderson.

 “Anderson’s alright,” he mumbled.

 They stood for a little while longer, Shepard having another smoke while Finch fiddled with an elastic band he had in his pocket. Shepard never once saw Finch’s eyes stay on the bar for more than a second, and wondered if he’d even notice the guy leaving if he walked straight into him on the way out.

 Turned out Finch didn’t need to pay attention, because their friend Bob appeared a short while later. The grainy mobile picture Bray had shown Shepard actually made Bob look better than he did in person. Curly red hair under a baseball cap, and a jean jacket that had seen better days, Bob looked to be fifty but was probably only thirty as he wandered down the street with the swagger of a man who knew how to hide his addictions.

Shepard waited until Bob made it further down the block before pushing off the wall to follow on the opposite side at a slower pace, head ducked but eyes on Bob the entire time. Finch seemed to catch on to what was going on and followed beside Shepard with much the same gate and slouch.

Shepard figured Bob must have lived close by. Addicts of any substance tended to stick close to their suppliers. He wouldn’t travel far to that bar in particular if he didn’t happen to live close by, and Aria wouldn’t have been his first choice if he squatted down in the Richmond area. His hunch proved to be true. They only traveled a few blocks before Bob was turning into an apartment block that had seen better days. A man sat out on the front steps, a dirty cup next to him and a small cardboard sign asking for money. Stopping in front of the building, Shepard looked through the grungy windows of the door but saw no sign of Bob in the entrance.

 He must have taken the stairs.

 “Hey—you know that guy who just went in there?” Shepard asked the panhandler.

  The panhandler scratched his chin through his scraggly beard. “Bob? Yeah, I know Bob.”

 “Know which apartment number he lives in?”

 “No.”

 Shepard sighed. He could hit the guy, but…

 Pulling out a five, he shoved it in the cup. “Remember now?”

 “Third floor, room thirty-two,” the man said, snatching up the five and shoving it in his coat pocket.

_We’ve got our guy…_

 Pulling out his phone, Shepard checked the time.

 5:35.

 He told Kaidan he’d be over around six. It would take him close to twenty minutes to make it to his neck of the woods alone, and he didn’t figure Bob was going to be very forthcoming with his payment…

 “You could be like, a detective or something with those skills of persuasion,” Finch teased, breaking Shepard from his thoughts.

 Grabbing Finch’s shoulder, Shepard pulled him in the direction of the convenience store across the street. Shoving Finch inside, he pushed his hood off and wandered down into the milk section in the back of the store, ignoring the suspicious stare of the man behind the counter.

 “What are we doing in here?” Finch said, righting his jacket.

 “Tired of being wet—now pretend you’re shopping,” Shepard instructed. He pulled his phone out again and dialed Aria’s number.

 Aria already sounded pissed off when she answered.

 “What is it, Shepard?”

 “We found Bob,” he said quietly. He pretended to read the types of milk in the fridge while Finch collected a packet of sour patch kids and an assortment of other sugary treats.

 “And? Did you get the money?”

 Shepard cleared his throat. “Did you want us to go up now and do it, or wait?”

 He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “Yes, I want you to go up now. What did you think I wanted?”

 “I’m just making sure,” Shepard said.

 “Why? Did you have somewhere else to be? Somewhere more important?” she asked, tone clipped.

 “No,” Shepard said quickly, “I’m just double checking.”

 “Next time, Shepard: take some initiative. It’s always been one of your redeeming qualities—don’t lose it.”

 She hung up.

 Fiddling with his phone, Shepard scrolled through his contacts and landed on ‘K’. He had two options, neither which sounded very good in his head. Tell Aria to fuck off, or tell Kaidan he couldn’t make it…

 Sighing, he dialed the number and wandered over to the freezer to look at the ice cream.

 “Hey, Shepard.”

 Kaidan’s voice sounded lazy and soft, and curled in Shepard’s gut like a warm drink on a cold day. He also sounded kind of slurry.

 “You okay?” he found himself asking.

 “What? Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I was just… it’s been quite the day,” he said. “I woke up with a migraine, so I’ve been trying to sleep it off.”

 “Oh… well, if you’re not feeling well we can—”

 “I’m fine, Shepard. It’s fine. I don’t want to reschedule.”

 Shepard sighed. He didn’t want to cancel. It was fucking stupid, but Shepard felt guilty about even _thinking_ about leaving Kaidan high and dry. He’d told multiple men in his life to bugger off without a care, but now that he was faced with doing it to Kaidan, Shepard felt like utter shit.

 “Listen, K— I mean Kaidan. I’m caught up with work and I don’t think I can make it on time for tonight,” he said, fiddling with the handle of the freezer door.

 “Oh… okay.”

 Shepard bit the inside of his cheek.

 “It’s not that I don’t want to, but…”

 “Yeah. It’s fine. You’ve got work and… yeah.”

 Shepard pressed his forehead against the glass of the freezer, but jerked away almost immediately as the cold touched his skin. Kaidan thought he didn’t want to meet up; that all he wanted was a fuck buddy situation. Shepard could lie to himself and say he didn’t want something more, but the thought of being friends with Kaidan gave Shepard a certain thrill.

 Shepard _wanted_ this date or hang-out or whatever it was. He wanted to just _talk_ to Kaidan.

 “I mean, we could meet up a little later?” Kaidan suggested.

 Shepard quirked a brow. “You’d be up for that?” he asked, trying to quell the hope in his chest.

 Guys like him couldn’t afford to be hopeful.

 “Yeah. I mean, as long as it’s not too late. When do you think you’ll be done?”

 Shepard shrugged only to realize Kaidan couldn’t see him. “No idea. Maybe around eight?”

 “Eight works for me. We could have a late dinner?”

 Shepard found he was grinning, but wiped a hand over his face to get rid of it as soon as Finch approached with a shopping bag full of candy and cigarettes.

 “Yeah, eight should be good. I’ll meet you at your place?” he said as quietly as he could. Finch was staring at him. It would look bad if he shoved Finch into the freezer, but damn if there wasn’t the temptation.

 “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

 “Yeah.”

 He hung up and immediately headed to the door, ignoring Finch’s grin.

 “Aria wants us to get the money now,” he said as soon as they were outside.

 “You talk; I search?” Finch asked.

 Shepard nodded and bounded across the street in between traffic. Ripping the door open, he didn’t look to see if Finch was keeping up before taking the stairs two at a time, forgoing the elevators that looked like they hadn’t been services since the seventies.

 Striding down the hallway, he stopped at room thirty-two and waited for Finch to catch up before slamming his fist down against the door repeatedly.

 “I’m coming, I’m coming,” said a muffled voice through the door.

 The door opened to reveal Bob in a somewhat disheveled state, baseball cap discarded and hair a wild mess. He peered at them, eyes bloodshot.

 “What do you want?” he asked slowly.

 “I’m here on behalf of Aria.”

 Bob tried to shut the door but Shepard slammed his shoulder against it, knocking Bob back with the force of the blow. Shoving his way inside, Shepard grabbed the collar of Bob’s shirt and threw him up against the wall in the hallway, cracking his head against the dirty plaster.

 “You’ve been behind on your payments,” Shepard said, holding Bob against the wall. Finch shut the door and stood nearby, his bag of candies rustling as he bounced back and forth on his heels.

 “I-I don’t want any trouble,” Bob said, grimacing, “but I don’t have the money.”

 Shepard swung his fist hard into his gut, causing Bob to curl in on himself. Shepard kept him upright, slamming him back against the wall.

 “Where’s the money, eh?” Finch said, still bouncing from foot to foot.

 “I s-swear I don’t have—”

 Shepard hit him again. He could hear Bob’s wheeze turn into a wet gurgle, and stepped out of the way just in time, as Bob emptied his stomach on to the floor.

 “Oh, gross,” Finch mumbled.

 Rolling his eyes, Shepard threw Bob into the living room, almost sending him crashing into the table in the centre. Leftover cocaine lines coated the scarred up wood, while empty cans of Cariboo toppled over on to the floor.

 “Search his apartment,” Shepard said to Finch. Turning his attention back to Bob, he rubbed his knuckles and stood over him while Finch crashed through the bedroom. Bob stayed on the floor, curled in on himself.

 “I swear I don’t have the money,” he wheezed.

 “Don’t fucking lie to me, Bob. We saw you at that shithole of a place you call a bar, and I’m pretty sure you’re not getting drinks for free. You’re holding out on us—on Aria.”

 “But I don’t have anything!”

 Shepard kicked his side hard. He heard a crack followed by a roar of pain from Bob. He kicked him again, this time a little gentler.

 “You find anything?” Shepard called.

 “Not yet!” Finch said from somewhere in the back of the apartment. There was another bang, followed by Finch swearing.

 “You don’t tell us where you’ve got the money and Finch is going to destroy the place,” Shepard said.

 Bob didn’t say anything. Crouching, Shepard noted Bob’s face had gone slack. He’d passed out—or so Shepard hoped. Pressing two fingers against his neck, Shepard felt a steady pulse.

 Yep; passed out.

 “I found some,” Finch said, coming around the corner with an assortment of bills in his hand. “Bastard hid it under his mattress.”

 Shepard took the crumpled bills and picked out two greens, a red, and a purple. Tossing the rest down beside Bob, Shepard shoved the money into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of cocaine that he left on the table.

 “What’s that for?” Finch asked.

 “Present from Aria for being a loyal customer,” Shepard said. “C’mon—let’s go before someone wonders what the noise was about.”

 Leaving Bob to lick his wounds, Shepard shut the door and hid his pink knuckles in the pockets of his jacket.

 “Licorice?” Finch asked, holding out a twizzler.

 Shepard hesitated, but then took the candy. “Thanks.”

_Just another day on the job._

XX

 Shepard stood in front of Kaidan’s apartment building, noting the lack of panhandlers and drug addicts. It was all smooth, clean glass and perfectly manicured hedges. The doorman sat behind the counter at the front desk fiddling with a pen, attention fixed on his papers and not the hooded guy with the smoke billowing out from between his lips.

 He and the doorman had an accord. So long as Shepard didn’t loiter and decrease property value by his mere presence, he was allowed to visit Kaidan whenever he wanted.

Snuffing out the unfinished cigarette on a planter, he tucked the butt in his pocket and entered, throwing a lazy salute to the doorman on his way to the elevators. Shoving a stick of gum in his mouth, he leaned against the wall of the elevator and wiggled his toes, trying to get feeling back in them after spending the entire day out in the rain.

 One he was on the proper floor he practically jumped out of the elevator, a certain thrill shoot through him at the prospect of seeing Kaidan.

 He squashed the feeling down quickly. He didn’t get attached like this.

  _Kaidan’s not part of your world, Shep. Remember that. He’s just a nice distraction—nothing more._

 Knocking twice, he stood back worked his jaw from side to side, listening to heavy footsteps approach.

 The door opened with a gusto that Shepard wasn’t prepared for, and he automatically steeled himself for some sort of fight. But before he could say or do anything Kaidan pulled him in for a kiss, the press of a smile against his lips. It took Shepard a second to relax, but when he finally did he noted that Kaidan tasted of peppermint and smelled of heady, rich cologne that probably cost far too much for what it was.

 Wrapping his arms around Kaidan’s waist, Shepard tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss, moaning as Kaidan’s tongue slipped in between his lips to rub against his own. When they pulled apart, Kaidan rested their foreheads together, a silly smile on his lips as they stood chest to chest.

 He’d stolen Shepard’s gum.

 “You know… this would have been really embarrassing if I wasn’t the one at the door. You could have just made out with the doorman,” Shepard mumbled.

 Kaidan chuckled. “Sorry—I’ve just been thinking about doing that all day.”

 “You and me both,” he said, gently slapping Kaidan’s ass.

 “So I thought we could go to a local pub nearby,” Kaidan said, pulling away to put his shoes and jacket on. “They’ve got great food and local craft beer. Plus—pool.”

 “You play pool?” Shepard asked, following Kaidan down to the main floor.

 Kaidan smirked. “I’ve got many hidden talents, Shepard.”

 Shepard returned the smirk. “I’m looking forward to seeing you show them off.”

 They walked to the elevator slowly, Kaidan’s shoulder brushing Shepard’s as they did so. Shepard resisted the urge to sneeze, the cold still buried deep into his bones, and instead leaned closer into Kaidan’s orbit, using the cold as an excuse.

 Kaidan ran hot, which was nice. Really nice.

 “Sorry about being so late,” he found himself saying as they stepped into the elevator together. He didn’t usually care enough to apologize for something like this, but Kaidan had a way of bringing out his manners—almost as if he’d grown up with a real mother and shit who cared enough to teach it to him.

 “Don’t apologize. Gave me a chance to work up an appetite,” Kaidan said. He was standing with a heavy lean to one side, their shoulders pressed tight together. Their knuckles brushed, and Shepard was suddenly hyper aware of what he’d done earlier that day.

_Wonder if Bob woke up…_

 He pulled his hand away and shoved it in his jacket pocket. Tonight he wasn’t Shepard—the gang banger who beat men for money and sold drugs without batting an eyelash. Tonight he was just Shepard—Kaidan’s friend, and maybe something more.

 “I’m going to kick your ass at pool, you know that, right?” Kaidan said as they stepped out into the lobby.

 Shepard grinned. “You can try, Alenko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date chapter is next! I promise! You will get their date! I mean friend-date! Whatever the heck it is!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's FINALLY not-a-date/friendship-date time!!!! With potential alleyway blowjobs... just sayin'. 
> 
> Thanks once again for all of the lovely comments, the kudos, and the general interest and support. I'm having a lot of fun writing this and I'm really happy to see y'all enjoying it so much!

 Shepard was the type of guy who made everything he did look effortless.

 The way he walked, the way he talked, how he dressed and presented himself; it contained a certain amount of nonchalant to it. Shepard never looked like he ever had to _try_ —it was always just there. It was like he was born with the swagger and mannerisms of a man made on the streets.

 It was sexy, it was admirable, and it was enviable in a certain way.

 Kaidan watched Shepard from across the table, noting how despite the try-too-hard atmosphere of the hipster pub Shepard looked like he fit in. With his trademark leather coat resting beside him in the booth, Shepard was clad in a soft grey cotton shirt and a pair of jeans, the only manner of personal decoration a silver chain necklace he sometimes wore. There was nothing special at all to what he was wearing—in fact, that seemed to be the only style of clothing he owned—and yet Kaidan couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

 It was that damn effortlessness again. Shepard was just _cool_.

 “I have no fucking clue what any of this means,” Shepard said. He was looking over the beer menu, eyes glazing over the further he got down the list.

 “What do you mean?” Kaidan asked. He already picked for himself, knowing before they even set foot in the place.

 “It’s just really… there’s a lot. How many words do you need to describe a beer?”

 Kaidan laughed. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned forward to look at Shepard’s menu. “Yeah, it can get kind of pretentious. But do you have a favourite kind of beer? Like stouts, ales, or a lager or something?”

 Shepard shook his head. “Not really. The most popular beer where I’m from is cheap shit like Cariboos.”

 Kaidan pulled a face _. Cariboos? Really?_

 “Shepard, it hurts me to hear you say that you drink Cariboos,” Kaidan said.

 “Might kill you to realize that a mouth that’s been sucking your dick has also had Cariboos in it.”

 Kaidan grimaced. “Yeah okay—keep that one to yourself. I prefer to live in ignorance.”

 Shepard let out an exaggerated sigh and shut the menu with a loud slap. “I’ll have whatever you’re having. I trust you to steer me right.”

 Kaidan sat back, a silly little smile creeping up on his lips. Shepard trusted him. Sure, it was just to pick what kind of beer he should drink, but with a man as guarded as Shepard, to even hear the words ‘I trust you’ seemed oddly special.

 Deciding to press his luck and ride out the moment, he passed Shepard the food menu before prompting him with a question.

 “Do you trust me with your first name?” he asked over his menu, brow quirked as he peered across at Shepard.

 Shepard kept his eyes down on the menu, lips parted slightly as he read through another long, pretentious list of artisan food options. He made no outward signs he’d even heard Kaidan, but just when he was going to ask him again, Shepard spoke.

 “John,” he said softly. Looking up from his menu, he locked eyes with Kaidan. “My first name is John.”

 John… it was… simple. Nice and simple. And it suited Shepard.

 “John Shepard,” Kaidan said, smiling. “I like it.”

 Shepard shrugged. “I didn’t pick it out myself, but thanks. Everyone just calls me Shepard, though.”

 “If that’s what you prefer.”

  Shepard went back to his menu, fingers drumming along the edge.

 “You could call me John if you’d like,” he said after a time. His attention was still fixed on the menu, but Kaidan felt his knee gently bump his own under the table.

 “You’re not a fan of your first name?” He tried not to grin like an idiot whenever Shepard’s knee touched his.

_What is it about Shepard that turns me into a tittering fifteen year old?_

 “I don’t care either way. It’s just, living on the streets you learn to keep a lot of shit close to your chest, because you never know when someone will decide to use even the most mundane things against you. Little things like first names become really personal, you know? It’s one of the few things I have that I get to decide if I want to share or not. It’s my choice… so… yeah.”

 He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Just then the waitress came to take their orders, breaking the little bubble they’d made for themselves. Kaidan ordered their drinks while Shepard seemed to pick at random what he wanted to eat.

 Once she had left Shepard returned to his aloof state. His shoulders tensed and his attention went to the door, head slightly ducked. Kaidan could feel his knee bouncing under the table rapidly.

 “Thanks,” he said.

 Shepard quirked a brow. “For what?”

 “For telling me your first name,” Kaidan replied. “I get why it’s a personal thing. So… uh, thanks for trusting me with it.”

 “No problem,” Shepard said. He smiled then, and his shoulders relaxed as he sat back in the booth. “You make it sound good when you say it.”

 Kaidan chuckled, cheeks going pink. He definitely felt like a fifteen year old now.

 “So now that you know my first name I think it only fair you tell me some of your secrets,” Shepard said, waggling his eyebrows.

 Kaidan rubbed the back of his neck, fingers touching the feint scars on the back of his skull. “A secret, hm? I don’t think I’ve got any really interesting ones; especially compared to you.”

 “C’mon, Kaidan… a clean-cut, professional guy like you has got to have some dirty little secrets,” Shepard said, still grinning.

 Dropping his hand, Kaidan debated telling him—no. It was too dark; too personal. It would ruin the mood and…

 “I smoke pot.”

 Shepard paused. “Yeah… and?”

 “And my dad is a cop!” Kaidan explained. “He’d cut my head off if he found out I sometimes smoke pot.”

 “ _Sometimes_?” Shepard repeated. “How many times have you smoked pot?”

 “A couple of times. At parties. Maybe… three times.”

 Shepard started to laugh unabashedly. It was deep and full of mirth, and Kaidan couldn’t help but join in. Saying it aloud did make it sound incredibly stupid—especially in front of Shepard, a guy who probably witnessed hard-core drug abuse on a daily basis. But it was worth the embarrassment to hear Shepard’s laugh.

 “Looks like we’ve got a rebel over here,” Shepard said.

 “Shut the fuck up,” Kaidan said, still laughing.

 The waitress arrived then, saving Kaidan from his humiliation. Grabbing his beer he took a long drink in order to calm himself.

 “Do you ever smoke?” he asked Shepard, watching as he took a swig of his beer without hesitation. Shepard had a face that was difficult to read, but Kaidan felt like he was a bit impressed with his choice of lager.

 “Occasionally I do, but I’m not a huge fan. I don’t like sampling what I—” Shepard stopped speaking. He covered up the momentary pause with a burp, but Kaidan figured he knew what he was going to say.

_Sell._

 A part of Kaidan had always known Shepard was involved in underground things-- things his father ranted about at the dinner table all throughout Kaidan’s childhood. But Kaidan didn’t know for sure, and so long as he remained entirely distant from Shepard’s ‘work’, he didn’t really care what Shepard did. It was an unspoken acknowledgement between them; Kaidan didn’t ask, Shepard didn’t tell.

 Still, the knowledge Shepard had to sell drugs to get by didn’t rest comfortably in Kaidan’s gut. He deserved more. He deserved better…

 “So how’s your head?” Shepard asked, finger tapping his temple. He looked across at Kaidan with a certain pleading in his eyes, silently asking for him to go along with the obvious change of subject.

 “It’s alright,” Kaidan said, and he could see the relief in Shepard’s gaze. He probably didn’t slip up like that often. Shepard was smart—he didn’t give anything away. The fact that he slipped in front of Kaidan like that…

 Well, it was a little bit flattering.

 “You get migraines often?”

 Kaidan nodded. Taking another drink of his beer, he enjoyed the bitter taste as it slid across his tongue, mixing with the taste of spearmint from the gum he’d stolen from Shepard earlier in the evening. “Ever since I was a kid. It’s not that bad. You… well, you never get used to it, but you learn how to manage it.”

 “Shit… I’m sorry to hear that,” Shepard said. “You feeling okay now?”

 “Yeah, I think so. I took some medication and slept all day. I just really didn’t want to miss this.”

 There was a slight twinge behind his eye, and Kaidan knew he’d probably wake up with one again tomorrow, but the lights and noise of the pub were worth it if he got to sit across from Shepard like this; laughing and talking, knocking knees under the table while Kaidan stole glances of Shepard’s chest whenever his shirt collar dipped just so.

 “I’m glad you could wait a couple extra hours. I didn’t want to have to cancel…” Shepard admitted.

 “I didn’t want you to cancel either. This is good. I’m having… I’m having a lot of fun so far.”

 Shepard smiled. “I’m not very good at this.” He waved his hand between them.

 “This?”

 “At dates. Or whatever the fuck this is. I don’t ever go on them. No one has ever asked and I’ve never bothered. We fuck and that’s about it. So… if I screw up, just be patient with me. I’m not used to… normal.”

 A rare admission from Shepard and one Kaidan appreciated.

 And if Shepard was calling this a date, well… Kaidan wouldn’t deny him that, either.

 “Well, I’m not very normal, so I guess that works out,” Kaidan said.

XX

 “So where did a guy from Yaletown learn to play pool?”

 Kaidan walked around the billiards table, eyeing up the one ball. Bending over, he positioned the pool cue behind the ball and lined up his shot perfectly. Focusing on the ball and _not_ how Shepard’s shirt rose up a fraction as he stretched ( _What a fucking cheater_ ), Kaidan tapped the cue against the ball, sending it directly into the one which dropped into the pocket.

 “I dunno—probably the same place a guy from the Eastside did,” Kaidan said. Finishing his turn with a failed move, he took Shepard’s place against the wall.

 Resting the end of his pool cue on the floor, Kaidan titled his head to the side, admiring Shepard’s ass as he bent over the table.

 Kaidan wasn’t kidding when he told Shepard he was good at pool. In fact, Kaidan spent a large portion of his Masters trying to out-play his lab partner, Cortez, at the game. It had been a good way to pass the time—let off some steam and just have a bit of fun in the middle of university stresses.

 It was either pool or ripping his hair out, and Kaidan was rather fond of his hair.

 Shepard managed to get the three into the corner pocket and stood up with a challenging smirk. His second go didn’t fare too well, but he hadn’t lost his smirk.

 “Fine, fine, don’t tell me,” he said, knocking Kaidan’s hip with his own as he passed by. “I’ll just make up some story in my head to explain how you’re so good at practically everything in your life.”

 Kaidan smiled tightly. “Yeah… I’m good at everything.”

_Everything except living a normal, healthy life._

_Keeping relationships._

_Hell, even_ starting _relationships_.

 He missed his target and ignored Shepard’s low whistle.

 “What’s that? You finally missed on your first shot?” Shepard said on his way past.

 Kaidan caught his wrist in a gentle hold and pulled him back. Shepard bumped into him, their chests brushing and lips almost touching as they stood next to the table. Shepard’s breath smelled of amber lager, and his eyes sparkled with the effects of the drink. The bar was still fairly busy, Saturday night bringing out the students and business men alike, everyone looking for a little relaxation before life hit them straight between the eyes.

 Shepard obviously noted the amount of people around, because he stiffened under Kaidan’s grasp and his head turned slightly to the side.

 Kaidan had misjudged the mood.

 “Sorry,” he said, letting go of Shepard’s arm.

 “It’s no problem.” Shepard stepped away from Kaidan, the smile returning.

 Kaidan forgot not everyone was as comfortable with PDA as he was. Not everyone had that luxury—especially gay men. Especially Shepard.

_Fucking hell._

 “So, you play pool, you’re a rich bastard with a sweet apartment in Yaletown, you’re getting your PhD in some cancer shit, and you’re ripped underneath all those sweater vests and flannel shirts,” Shepard detailed as he plotted his next move. Pursing his lips, he bent over and knocked another ball into the side pocket. Standing up straight, he grinned and returned to Kaidan. “Yet I still feel like I don’t truly know you. So tell me, Mr. Alenko—what is your favourite colour?”

 Kaidan laughed. “You wanna know my favourite colour?”

 Shepard shrugged.

 “It’s blue. Yours?”

 “Red.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah? Why? Is that surprising?”

 It was Kaidan’s turn to shrug. “You always wear greys and blacks—I thought maybe you like monochromatic colours more than bright ones like red.”

 “Red is… red is _passion_ ,” Shepard said, rocking from side to side. He was definitely a little tipsy. It was cute. “It’s alive, you know? I feel something when I see it. It’s also a little sexy. Red is the colour of the tip of your cock and the pout of your lips when you’re sucking a guy off. Red is the pounding of blood through your body telling you to just _go_ for it.”

 Kaidan smirked. “You’re a poet, John.”

 Shepard’s smile softened.

 “What?” Kaidan asked.

 “You said my name again.”

 “You like that?”

 Shepard nodded. “Already told you I did.”

 Kaidan went to play again, his heart beating a little faster in his chest. Shepard didn’t seem to like PDA, but that evidently didn’t extend to excessive flirting.

 “Favourite animal?” Kaidan asked once his turn was over.

 “Dogs,” Shepard said quickly. “You?”

 “Uh… probably dogs, too. What about favourite kind of food?”

 “If it tastes good I’ll eat it. Shit, doesn’t even have to taste all that good. If it won’t kill me I’ll eat it,” Shepard said.

 “I’m a fan of steak… and bacon. Generally a lot of meat,” Kaidan replied.

 “Meat, eh? Would never have guessed.”

 “Really, Shepard… really?”

 Shepard grinned and sauntered off to play his turn. They ended up trading their likes and dislikes throughout the rest of the game, Kaidan finding out trivial little things about Shepard that, to an outside observer, appeared inconsequential. But to Kaidan they meant everything. It was the little things like knowing Shepard’s favourite colour was red, and that the movie Aliens scared the shit out of him, that made Kaidan feel more connected to him. Like there was something both of them could relate to despite being worlds apart.

 Eventually the game ended, Kaidan winning by a small margin. It was late and Kaidan was beginning to tire, the week catching up to him. Shepard seemed to note his sudden fatigue because without even needing to ask he was fetching their jackets and pulling out his wallet to pay.

 “Hey man, I’ll pay for your stuff. I asked you out so it’s only fair,” Kaidan said.

 “No, it’s fine. I can pay for my share.”  

 “Are you sure? It’s not a prob—” 

 “I can pay for my shit, Kaidan,” Shepard said, locking eyes with him.

 Shepard was a prideful man, and Kaidan realized how it must have looked then. Some rich guy insisting he buy his less-fortunate friend dinner…

 Shepard sighed, the irritation in his gaze disappearing. “Sorry, Kaidan, I just—” 

 “I get it—really, I do,” Kaidan said, smiling tightly. “But next time let me pay? Not because I don’t think you can afford it, but because I _want_ to.”

 Shepard nodded hesitantly. “Sure.”

 Kaidan was starting to catch Shepard’s ticks and tells. Whenever he was nervous or unsure—completely and utterly out of his element, which he seemed to be a lot of the time around Kaidan—he’d get tense and a little aggressive, as if to make up for the fact that he wasn’t on equal footing with Kaidan. Kaidan wasn’t entirely sure how to make that better, especially when he seemed to keep stepping on Shepard’s insecurities by virtue of just being himself. Kindness with no strings attached seemed to be a foreign concept for Shepard.

 He tried to quell the feeling of pity that swirled in his gut. Shepard would probably kick his ass if he learned he felt that way.

 Stepping out on to the street after paying, Kaidan breathed a sigh of relief when not a single raindrop fell on their heads. It had been raining non-stop for the last week, but finally— _finally_ —there was some reprieve. They walked close together, Shepard’s shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep into his jacket’s pockets. Shepard walked like a man ready for a fight, which should have worried Kaidan.

 It just sort of turned him on.

 “You like the beer—” 

 Shepard grabbed Kaidan’s arm and tugged him into an alleyway. Not for the first time was Kaidan shoved against a wall by Shepard, and it also wasn’t the first time he was kissed so hard he thought he might pass out. Gripping Shepard’s jacket, Kaidan curled his fingers in the soft leather and returned the embrace with just as much enthusiasm.

 Shepard’s breath was hot against his mouth, his body hard, and his hands gentle as they cupped his jaw and ran through his hair. Parting his lips, Kaidan titled his head to the side, moaning as Shepard slipped his leg between his own, mimicking their first kiss almost two months ago. This was good. This was really fucking good. Kaidan relaxed into everything, body molding against Shepard’s as they made out behind a well-to-do clothing shop that sold cashmere sweaters and flower crowns.

 Shepard dropped his hand to cup Kaidan through his jeans, and it was then that Kaidan realized where they were. Grabbing his wrist, he stilled Shepard’s movements and pulled away from the kiss.

 “We’re in an alleyway,” Kaidan said breathlessly.

 Shepard just shrugged. “We’re also in the dark.”

 “And in public.”

 Shepard looked down at the end of the alley. No one was walking by.

 “It’s late,” Shepard said, turning his attention back to Kaidan. There was a glint in his eye, one that made Kaidan’s cock jump against Shepard’s hand. “All the upstanding citizens are tucked away in their beds, dreaming of taxes and shit.”

 Kaidan chuckled, but it turned into a moan as Shepard started to rub him again.

 Shepard was hard against him, his lips wet and soft against his jaw and down his neck. His breath was coming out in short, hot puffs against his skin, creating goosebumps in their wake. Kaidan realized that Shepard wasn’t rubbing him anymore; rather he was grinding into his touch all on his own.

 A thrill shot through Kaidan at the idea of fucking in an alleyway in Yaletown.

 “You’re a horrible influence,” Kaidan said, groaning as Shepard’s fingers ran under his shirt to slide across his stomach before coming to a stop at his belt buckle.

 Shepard chuckled, the sound shooting deep into Kaidan’s gut. Raising his head he pressed their foreheads together.

 “You wanna do this here? If you’d rather not I’m cool with that too. Whatever you want, Alenko.”

  _Fuck it—you only live once._

 Kaidan kissed Shepard hard, grabbing his ass and squeezing. Shepard let out one of his rare moans as he frantically undid Kaidan’s belt and zipper. Pushing his hand down, Shepard grabbed Kaidan in a rough hold, stroking him quick, getting him harder with each swipe. Kaidan bit Shepard’s bottom lip firmly, his hands shaking as he undid Shepard’s belt. He didn’t have time to get any further before Shepard was dropping to his knees and taking him in all the way to the hilt in one fell swoop.

 Crying out, Kaidan covered his mouth with his fist, stifling his moans. His back pressed against the brick wall, shoes rubbing the gravel in the alleyway as he tried to stabilize himself. Shepard was fast and unrelenting as he bobbed between his legs, mouth impossibly hot and hands firm as they gripped his hips.

 Cupping the back of his head, Kaidan stared up at the sky, yellow streetlights blocking the light from the stars. The sound of a car driving past sent a spike of anxiety through him, but it was taken away with another swipe of Shepard’s lips and tongue across his length. His belt buckle jingled along with the movement and Kaidan concentrated on the sound of it as Shepard’s hands pushed up his shirt, exposing his stomach and back to the cold night air. Curling his toes, Kaidan rode out the sensation, eyes squeezing shut as he neared the edge, alcohol and Shepard’s ministrations making it hard to hold on.

 “I’m going to—fuck—I’m gonna come, John,” Kaidan stuttered out, hands gripping Shepard’s shoulders, trying to get him off before he did. But Shepard didn’t let up—in fact he lifted his head only to suck on the tip, tongue and lips and hands working in tandem.

 Ducking his head down, Kaidan let out another low moan, the sight of Shepard on his knees in the alleyway far sexier than it had any right to be. A few more swipes of his tongue and Kaidan came, Shepard taking his load with ease.

 Relaxing against the wall, Kaidan brushed back a stray strand of hair that had come out of its gelled hold. Shepard stood up, a cheeky grin on his face, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth.

 “Shit,” Kaidan mumbled, and pulled Shepard in for a kiss. He could taste himself on Shepard’s lips and feel his arousal against his hip.

 Kissing him again, Kaidan bit his bottom lip gently before switching their positions, Shepard against the wall while Kaidan dropped down in front of him. Undoing his belt the rest of the way, Kaidan pulled down his zipper and fished him out of his boxer-briefs.

 Taking Shepard into his mouth, Kaidan moaned around his length, immediately setting the same pace Shepard had done for him. Running his hands under and up Shepard’s shirt, he felt his stomach muscles flex under his touch, and listened to the stutter in Shepard’s breath as he was worked all over. Shepard tasted salty and felt velvety against his tongue, and Kaidan couldn’t help but moan around him.

 “Shit, Kaidan… f-fuck,” Shepard whispered, voice thick with lust as he carded his fingers through Kaidan’s hair, mussing it up further.

 Kaidan’s knees dug into the gravel on the pavement, leftover rain soaking into his jeans. The thought that someone could see what he was doing was a turn-on, driving him further down. Shepard’s breathing was erratic, hands insistent as they cupped the back of Kaidan’s head. Kaidan let him guide him somewhat, enjoying how such a rough, dangerous guy held Kaidan with such care.

 “I’m gonna come, K,” Shepard panted out.

 Grabbing Shepard’s hips, Kaidan pushed him against the wall and held him there, bobbing his head faster before hollowing his cheeks over the tip, working him to completion. Shepard came with a grunt, Kaidan taking him in best he could.

 Sitting back once Shepard was finished, Kaidan brushed the back of his hand over his mouth, trying to catch his breath. The gravel under his knees chaffed uncomfortable, and the cold November air suddenly felt chiller. Standing with shaking legs, Kaidan caught Shepard’s laugh in a lazy kiss. Righting themselves, Kaidan kept kissing Shepard, chuckling in between the brief presses of their lips.

 “How was that?” Shepard asked, trying to right Kaidan’s hair. It didn’t work.

 “Pretty fucking fantastic,” Kaidan mumbled. He couldn’t stop grinning.

 Kaidan wondered what would happen if anyone he knew found out about this—about what he just did. This was Mr. Dependable going down on a guy in an alleyway for anyone to stumble upon. He honestly didn’t care, he decided. And that was so goddamn liberating.

 “You’re a horrible influence, you know that?” Kaidan repeated as they stumbled out from the alley.

 Shepard just hummed, seemingly in agreement. Pulling out a cigarette he lit up and took a long drag.

 “Wanna try smoking while you’re at it? I mean, you’re practically a bad-ass now,” Shepard teased.

 Kaidan shoved Shepard to the side, almost sending him into a trashcan. Catching himself on the rim, Shepard caught up to Kaidan and returned the shove. Tripping, Kaidan grabbed Shepard’s arm, using him as a steadying point. Shepard’s hand gripped the back of his jacket, pulling him upright.

 “I’ll have you know that I’m more than just an academic in a lab coat,” Kaidan said as soon as he could walk properly. He wasn’t drunk—neither of them was—but the mood between made Kaidan _feel_ like he’d just downed a pitcher of his favourite lager.

 “Yeah?” Shepard said. He tossed his arm around Kaidan’s shoulder, the motion casual to the outside observer. But Kaidan knew it was Shepard’s subtle way of showing affection.

 Or maybe he was just reading into it.

 Shit, he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of anything when it came to Shepard.

 “I got into a few fights as a kid. Even got suspended from high school once,” he revealed.

 Shepard quirked a brow and let out a puff of smoke. “Really?”

 Kaidan nodded. “Yeah. The asshole was a bully and kept taking it out on this chick I knew. So one day I lost it—took the guy out in a parking lot after school. By the time the teachers found us I’d broken his nose and bloodied him up pretty good.”

 There was a sudden silence. Kaidan lost his smile and stared down at the pavement. That was… a mistake. To say that.

_Shit._

He had guarded that like he guarded the surgery scars and his countless prescriptions. Only Ashley and Liara knew about Vyrnnus and the ‘Parking Lot Incident’, and he tried to keep it that way. It… it was a bad time in Kaidan’s life, one he preferred to forget.

 Shepard’s arm dropped from around him, but he pressed their shoulders together, nudging him gently as they turned the corner on to Kaidan’s street.

 “Sorry—I don’t know why I told you that,” Kaidan mumbled.

 “Hey, it’s fine. I get it. Sometimes a guy just needs to get hit. I’d have done the same,” Shepard said.

 Kaidan believed that.

 “It doesn’t bother me—at least, not as much as it used to. I’ve had time to come to terms with it and… it wasn’t worth dwelling on. I don’t want you thinking I’m nuts or something. I swear. I’m a fully functional human being… most of the time.”

 “Kaidan…” Kaidan looked over at Shepard, noting the understanding in his gaze. “I get it. You don’t have to explain it to me.”

 Stopping in front of his apartment, the two stood face to face, Kaidan’s back to the doors while Shepard took one last drag, cheeks hollowing. Dropping the butt on to the pavement, Shepard ground it into the cement. Kaidan took some satisfaction from the fact that he didn’t bother to pick it up and throw it out.

 Small rebellions seemed to be Shepard’s forte.

“You wanna come up, or…”

 Shepard looked up at Kaidan’s apartment, gaze tracing the shapes of the windows. He hunched his shoulders and leaned back on the heels of his feet, lips pressed tight together.

 “Nah,” he finally said, “I should probably head back to my neck of the woods. I don’t want to… I dunno.”

 “Yeah, alright. It was… this was nice. You know, besides the end.”

 Shepard smiled and gripped Kaidan’s shoulder. “I liked that you told me. Let’s me know you’re a fuck-up like the rest of us.”

 Kaidan laughed. It felt good to laugh about the incident. “Yeah… yeah, you have no idea.”

 “And hey, you got a guy who deserves to get hit, just call me. We can go together,” Shepard joked.

 Or, at least, Kaidan thought he was joking.

 “Thanks. I’ll let you know,” he said.

 Shepard’s hand drifted up to grasp the side of Kaidan’s neck in a firm hold, and he pulled him in for a slow, gentle kiss. Holding on to Shepard’s wrist, Kaidan closed his eyes, fingers pressed against Shepard’s rapid pulse point.

 It was nice to know he was just as nervous, frantic, and excited as Kaidan was.

 “See you around, Kaidan,” Shepard said when they pulled apart.

 “Yeah, see you, John.”

 Shepard started down the street and Kaidan watched him go, lips tingling from the kiss or the cold air, he couldn’t tell.

 Just as Shepard was almost around the corner he stopped and turned around, another smoke in his hand.

 “Next time—I’m taking you to my favourite pub,” he yelled.

 Kaidan nodded and shot Shepard a thumbs up.

  _Next time…_

 Kaidan grinned and wandered into the lobby.

 “He said next time,” Kaidan said to the doorman.

 The doorman just grunted and took a drink of his coffee.

_Next time._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have to say this: you guys are amazing. Thank you so very much for the support and your interest. Your enthusiasm makes me enthusiastic, and I'm buzzing with excitement every time I go back to this story to work on a new chapter.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Themes of past teenage prostitution and past child abuse, so if either bother you please prepare yourself (and if you skip this chapter that's okay!). Shepard's life has not been easy...

 It had snowed in Vancouver last week. Just a light sprinkle, enough to cover the streets and make you think the city was cleaner than it was— _purer_ than it was. Shepard watched the first few flakes float down from the sky from his perch on one of the stools outside Afterlife, a glower on his face and cold hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. Grunt kept laughing at Shepard, taking glee in his expression.

_‘You look like a wet cat, Shepard. Someone piss on your snow angel as a kid?’_

 Vancouverites always lost their collective shit when it snowed, and Shepard was no exception. There were a few who would claim that it was better than the rain, but at least with the rain it was still sort of kind of maybe a _little_ warm. Snow meant it was cold enough to freeze, and below freezing temperatures set Shepard on edge. It reminded him of his first week after running away from the foster home, living on the streets with no fucking clue what he was doing. Cold, hungry, and fucking scared witless, Shepard went from bus shelter to bus shelter, seeking a bit of reprieve from the snow that came down in wet, messy globs.

 Of course the city that rarely saw snow would get pounded his first week out on the street; and of course it would drive him into a state where he was desperate enough to degrade himself for a little bit of money and some warmth—even if it was just a couple of hours in a shitty car behind a McDonalds with a guy who had three kids and a wife waiting at home.

 Shepard hated the snow. It was an uncomfortable reminder of a time when he was vulnerable, alone, and afraid.

 And the reminders just kept coming.

 Usually Shepard was good at shrugging that kind of shit off. He’d roll his shoulders, close his eyes, take a few deep breaths, and walk on by. But the snow, the heightened tension with Blood Pack, and his nebulous relationship with Kaidan made the kid in front of him on the street asking for a smoke hard to ignore.

 “You got a smoke? Or some spare change?”

 Shepard stared at the kid. He—or she, Shepard honestly couldn’t tell—was wearing a baggy hoodie and an oversized toque, greasy hair wet from the snow plastered to their forehead. Their eyes were clouded over with an exhaustion that came from sleeping on the streets, and dark bags added years to their young face. They had a cut on their bottom lip that they’d chewed on, and the hems of their hoodie’s sleeves had holes where their thumbs peeked out of.

 They couldn’t be more than fourteen—fifteen if Shepard was being generous.

 “How old are you, kid?” Jack asked. She leaned closer to Shepard, arms crossed over her chest. She was glaring at the kid, but Shepard could tell she was feeling the same thing he was.

_This kid was me ten years ago…_

 “Seventeen,” they said, a defensiveness to their tone that told Shepard the kid hadn’t been on the streets long enough to know how to lie.

 “Bullshit,” Shepard said. “How old are you really?”

 He pulled out a smoke and passed it to the kid.

 “I’m fifteen,” they admitted. Snatching the cigarette from Shepard’s grasp, the kid nodded to him and shoved it into the front pocket of their hoodie.

 “You got like… friends or something?” Jack asked.

 The kid shrugged. “Not really.”

 Shepard sighed. Being alone on the streets was a bad idea.

 “Got any contacts?” he asked.

 The kid shook their head. “No. I don’t need anyone, though. Been on my own since I was a kid.”

_Not like this you haven’t._

 “Listen—you guys got any money for some burgers or something? I’ll do stuff if you want,” they said, fear in their voice they were trying to cover up with a cough.

_‘You’ve got pretty eyes, kid. It’s what I first noticed about you.’_

_The sickeningly sweet stench of too much cologne, the heat of a man’s breath against his neck, and the pressure of a hand on the back of his head, keeping him in place. Making him_ work _for that meal. Fifteen bucks for a ‘job well done’, quickly spent on bubbly pop and a hamburger to wash away the taste of a stranger._

 Never again.

 Shepard clenched his jaw and took in a shaky breath. His throat felt dry and tight, and he swallowed down the anger. Some fifteen year old offering to do sexual services for a fucking burger from McDonalds—what a fucking beautiful world they lived in.

 He knew the kid didn’t have anywhere to go. If they went to the homeless shelter a few blocks away they’d peg them as a minor and throw them back into the foster system—or worse, find whoever it was they were running away from and take them right back. It had happened to Jack once, and she wore the scars from her abuser like a badge of honour.

 Shepard didn’t want that for this kid.

 But there was nothing he could do.

  _Fucking goddamn piece of shit fucking city._

 “You got any cash on you?” Jack asked quietly. She was close enough Shepard could hear the waver in her voice and see the concern in her dark brown eyes.

 They reminded him a bit of Kaidan…

 Pulling out his wallet he passed the kid fifteen dollars, Jack adding a five to the mix.

 “There’s a McDonalds a couple blocks west,” Shepard said, jerking his head in the proper direction. “If you tell them you’re from the shelter they’ll usually give you a free coffee.”

 The kid snatched the money out of Shepard’s hand and counted it quickly before hiding it away under their hoodie. They didn’t say thanks, but sent them a look that told Shepard they’d use it wisely. Taking off in the direction Shepard told them to go, they spared them a second look before running, puddles splashing in their wake.

 “I fucking hate this city,” Shepard said through clenched teeth.

 “You and me both,” Jack mumbled.

 Shepard felt suffocated—like the business towers and clouded skyline closing in on him. He wanted a way out; wanted out of this fucking hellhole they all called home. Every day was the same fucking thing: junkies overdosing outside his apartment, drug dealers attacking other dealers in some mindless, useless bid for more territory, and teenage runaways offering to suck some rich business man’s cock for a cigarette and some shelter from the rain if only for an hour.

 It was like there was a knife in his gut and it kept twisting and twisting and twisting until one day he’d end up dead from caring too fucking much. The system wasn’t just broken—it was smashed beyond repair, little tiny pieces scattered across the ground, politicians and social works sweeping it all up and saying it was fixed while dumping them all in a trash bin out back.

Every year someone promised to make it better, and every year they did jack shit. People kept dying, drug dealers kept dealing, and kids slipped through the cracks and ended up perpetuating the same vices and ills that plagued the city in the first place.

 It made Shepard physically ill. It made him so goddamn angry. It made him want to scream until his throat ripped apart.

 A snowflake floated down gently and landed on the top of Jack’s pompadour.

 “I’m getting the fuck out of here,” Shepard growled.

XX

 Shepard prowled around the streets for hours, trying to work off the tension in his shoulders and the rawness deep in his chest. The snow had stopped almost as soon as it began but the rain followed shortly after, and Shepard followed the draining of the muddy water as it sloshed about in the gutters until it ran clear. Soon the streets, normally coated in chewed gum and broken up needles, became spotless and unmarred from years of heavy abuse and neglectful city planners.

 It wasn’t until then that Shepard realized he’d arrived at Kaidan’s apartment.

 Kaidan was part of the system Shepard hated so much.

 Kaidan, with his expensive apartment and BMW; Kaidan, with his prosperous academic career and his happy, functioning family life; Kaidan, with his craft beers and artisan foods; Kaidan, with his naïve, pretentious, privileged lifestyle that was made possible by stepping on the backs of men like Shepard. Kaidan, who thought Shepard’s world was some neat and exotic curiosity that was a lifetime away.

 Shepard took a deep breath. Craning his neck, he peered through the rain to see the lights were on in Kaidan’s apartment.

 Kaidan, with his vibrant smile and his sympathetic eyes; Kaidan, with his soft lips, eager body, and a voice like honey; Kaidan, with his rich laugh and brilliant mind; Kaidan, with his support and understanding. Kaidan, who never judged him or treated him differently—who accepted Shepard for who he was even though he had every reason to reject him; to cast him aside like the rest of society.

 Kaidan, who made Shepard feel like he was something more.

 Even if it was just an illusion.

 “Fuck it.”

 Shepard strode inside, ignoring the look from the doorman as he tracked in mud and water. Forgoing the elevator Shepard took the stairs, needing to burn off further energy. He felt on edge—like he’d been zapped with electricity, the currents buzzing under his skin.

 Knocking on Kaidan’s door three times he bounced back on his heels, bottom lip chewed between his lips. He needed a cigarette.

 It took longer than usual for Kaidan to answer the door—so long Shepard thought maybe Kaidan wasn’t actually home. But just as he was about to run off Kaidan swung the door open, locking Shepard in place.

 “Shepard?” Kaidan said, sounding confused.

 “Hey,” he replied, hands curled into fists inside his pocket. He wanted to touch Kaidan; wanted to run his hands through his hair and breathe in his fresh, clean scent. He wanted to get lost in him, completely and utterly, to forget about where he was and who he was; what he’d done and what he was going to do.

 But he didn’t want to sully Kaidan.

 “Did I come at a bad time?” he asked, noting Kaidan glancing over his shoulder.

 “No—no, not at all. I just have one of my lab partners over. We were going over some results.” He stepped out of the way and ushered Shepard in. Shepard stood awkwardly in the entranceway, unsure of if he should stick around. Kaidan decided for him and shut the door with a resounding click.

 “Take your shoes off and get comfortable. Like I said, we’ll be done in about ten minutes or so.” Kaidan smiled and leaned in for a slow, sweet kiss.

 Shepard relaxed for a moment, eyes closing and mind focusing on Kaidan and only Kaidan. But then Kaidan pulled away and headed down the hallway, once again telling him to take off his shoes and ‘relax’. He watched Kaidan go, hearing a female voice in the kitchen ask who that was.

 ‘A friend,’ he heard Kaidan say.

 Going into the living room Shepard paced around the couch, his t-shirt his only means of warmth. Kaidan kept his apartment colder than most, saying he ‘ran hot’. Shepard didn’t usually mind but found he was soaked to the bone, a chill seeping into him that he couldn’t shake.

 Running a hand over his head he walked back and forth in front of the television, trying to get rid of the itch under his skin. Kaidan’s apartment was all clean lines and soft furniture, luxurious in a way that Shepard wasn’t used to. _Still_ wasn’t used to. Three months in and Shepard continued to avoid touching most things in Kaidan’s apartment, afraid he’d ruin it or something. This wasn’t his space; wasn’t his world. He was an intruder in Kaidan’s life.

 But he didn’t want to be…

 The voices from the kitchen grew louder, and Shepard turned to see a tall woman with dark brown hair walk out, briefcase in her grasp and a trench coat already on. She quirked her brow when she saw him, cool blue eyes roaming over his body.

 She smirked, but didn’t say anything.

 He glared back.

 “I’ll see you on Monday. We can implement our plan then,” she said to Kaidan, voice thick with an Australian accent.

 “Yeah, sounds good,” Kaidan said, holding her briefcase as she put her shoes on. “See yah, Miranda.”

 “Have fun, Kaidan,” Miranda said, and Shepard could hear the lilt in her voice that told him she knew what Shepard was to Kaidan.

 As soon as the door was shut Kaidan reappeared, brows furrowed and concern heavy in his gaze. Shepard ducked his head and turned back to the bookshelves, angry with himself for reasons still unknown even to him.

 “You alright?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard bit back the easy answer and swallowed it. Taking a steadying breath, he fiddled with the corners of one of Kaidan’s books, trying to collect his thoughts.

 “The world is a fucked up place,” he finally said. “It’s so goddamn messed up, Kaidan. You try your hardest to just make it each day but nothing is easy. Not a fucking thing is easy in this place.”

 Looking over at Kaidan, he swallowed his pride and continued. “You do some shit in your life to survive, and it’s tough, and it’s brutal, and it makes you sick in your stomach to do it, but you do it anyways because surviving is what matters. It’s all that has ever mattered. But everything comes with a fucking price.”

 He brushed a hand over his face, trying to clear the emotion from his voice. It didn’t work. He could hear the tremble of barely contained anger even as he tried to crush it into something he could manage—something that didn’t make him feel so fucking sick.

 “I wish I could forget it all. I wish I could just move on with my life—like what I did to survive didn’t cling to me like some… some ghost or something. It makes me feel sick to think about it. And the worst thing is? I’m not the only fucking one. I’m just another in a long line of people this place has fucked over. I didn’t win the fucking lottery of life and I’m paying for it every goddamn day. And I hate it, and I hate that I hate it. And I just want to get out of this city. I feel like—like I can’t breathe some days. Like the walls are closing in and they’re going to crush me.”

 Shepard could feel Kaidan’s gaze on him as he paced back and forth, watching every movement and hearing every word. Shepard felt exposed and vulnerable—like a lion in a cage— but he couldn’t stop himself at this point. Shepard didn’t do this—he didn’t tell people about this. He bottled it up; kept it tucked safe away so that no one could use it against him. Emotions were a liability—it was a weakness, and weaknesses were exploited.

He kept walking around, pacing in front of Kaidan, the knife in his gut twisting further and further until he thought he was going to vomit. He was restless and off-centered and he just wanted some goddamn relief.

 Kaidan touched his arm.

 Shepard almost hit him. Adrenaline shot through his system and he tensed at the simple touch, everything in his body telling him to attack—to hit before he got hit himself. But the feeling was gone as soon as he fell into Kaidan’s orbit.

 Their eyes met, Kaidan’s eyes welling with an emotion Shepard didn’t know or didn’t understand. But it was oddly comforting, and Shepard felt like he could breathe for the first time in hours. Leaning in closer, Shepard cleared his throat and broke their stare, instead focusing on the three freckles above Kaidan’s brow.

“This city wants to see me dead, Kaidan, and sometimes I think it’ll get its wish,” he whispered. He reached up and touched his shirt—felt the soft, clean cotton under the rough callouses of his fingertips. “I need to get out of here.”

 “Then let’s go.”

 It was the first thing Kaidan had said since Shepard had begun his rant. His voice was low and calm, a stark contrast to Shepard’s increasing erraticism.

 “What do you mean?” he asked.

 “I dunno… let’s just go,” Kaidan repeated. “Get in my car and drive. Drive out of this city and leave for as long as you need. If the walls are closing in, we’ll beat them before they shut.”

 Shepard let out a laugh. He didn’t know why.

  _Kaidan isn’t running away; he’s not leaving. He’s taking you with him. Offering a way out—even if it’s just for a few hours._

“Y-yeah. Sure. Let’s go,” he said, smiling tightly. Kaidan was smiling, too.

 “Let me just grab some things,” Kaidan said, pulling away. Shepard watched him hurry off into the bedroom but stayed where he was in the living room. They’d just run away for a bit; get out of the city. Maybe then Shepard could breathe again.

 Kaidan returned quickly with a warm tweed jacket on. He had a hoodie in his grasp, and tossed it to Shepard who caught it with ease.

 “Your hoodie is soaked,” Kaidan explained. “Use mine—we’re about the same size, yeah?”

 It was a dark blue and soft to the touch. Shepard lifted it to his nose and breathed in Kaidan’s scent. He’d worn it before giving it to Shepard. That was… comforting. Putting it on, he felt goosebumps spread out across his arms as warmth slowly sunk into his tired bones.

 “Where do you want to go?” Shepard asked, putting on his leather coat overtop Kaidan’s hoodie.

 Kaidan shrugged and passed Shepard the keys to his BMW.

 “I’ll let you decide,” he said with a wink. “I just hope you can drive a standard.”

XX

 They chose to go north.

 With no particular destination in mind Shepard slipped on to the Sea to Sky Highway and let the engine go. Dusked turned into night, cars and minivans turning into logging trucks and late night joy riders, and still Shepard drove. The music from the radio joined in with the rumble of the engine, and Shepard pushed it harder, matching his heartrate as they escaped together into the night.

 Kaidan remained his silent companion, attention on the road as Shepard went well over the speed limit once they were outside the city limits. Shepard simply concentrated on the feel of the vehicle under his hands, and the sight of the moon as it light their way along the coast. He kept driving and driving, the pressure in his chest abating with each kilometer until finally— _finally_ —Shepard felt like he wasn’t drowning anymore.

 It was then that Kaidan reached out, hand going to rest on the back of Shepard’s neck. Warmth seeped through him as his fingers massaged the back of his skull, working out the kinks that had formed. He slowed down then and matched the speed of the cars around them. The engine, like Shepard’s heart, returned to a normal, regular pace.

 Opening the windows ocean-air slipped in through the cracks, crisp and cool and bitter. Shepard breathed it in, marveling in the simplicity of it. There was no smog out here; no yelling or fighting, no overdoses or stabbings or loud shots cracking through the nighttime haze.

 Out here it was just Shepard, Kaidan, and an endless road filled with endless possibilities.

 There was a rest stop along a rocky beach that Shepard pulled in to. Stopping, he turned the engine off and sat back. It was almost midnight.

 “I owe you for the gas,” Shepard said, staring out at the ocean.

 Kaidan chuckled. “Sure, if you want.”

 It all looked so… simple out here. Like everything made sense. Like the world had a purpose beyond fucking everything up.

 Shepard wished he could just keep running—that he and Kaidan could drive and drive and drive and never have to stop. Never have to go back to Vancouver; back to their lives and everything that they entailed. He just wanted to keep going.

 Taking the keys out of the ignition, Shepard got out of the car, needing to feel the ocean air on his skin. Kaidan followed, hands stuffed in his coat pocket as they picked their way across the slick rocks. It was dangerous, the stones slippery and uneven, but Shepard kept going until he could feel the ocean spray against his cheeks and taste the salt against his lips.

 There was something exhilarating about tempting the fates like this.

 Kaidan stood beside Shepard, their shoulders pressed together. His hair was a windswept mess, cheeks pink under the moonlight. He looked… beautiful.

 The stars were out and the moon was full and bright. Shepard watched the stars twinkle freely, no pollution or clouds to hide them away.

 “When I was a kid I always wanted to become an astronaut,” Shepard said eventually.

 “Yeah? How come?” Kaidan asked.

“I dunno… I just thought that space—everything out there—was almost like… the ultimate escape. I figured that whatever was going down on earth wouldn’t matter up in space, and I could just be _free_. I could be someone completely different up there… I could explore, discover new plant… fuck hot aliens…”

 Kaidan laughed. “That’s an… admirable goal.”

 Shepard shrugged. “I knew it would never happen, but a kid could dream.”

 “How do you know it could never happen?” Kaidan asked. He sounded so goddamn naive, Shepard wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss him or punch him for it.

 “I don’t think NASA was looking to take in high school drop-outs,” Shepard replied. Straightening up, he closed his eyes and leaned into the wind.

 “How old were you… I mean, when you started living on the streets?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard opened his eyes and stared at the dark waves as they crashed into the rocks down below, foam curling around them before slipping away. He could tell Kaidan everything right now; reveal his life story and just be done with it. If Kaidan didn’t want to deal with him after that, it didn’t matter to Shepard.

 Or it shouldn’t have. Instead, Shepard had begun to care a lot about what Kaidan thought. Especially about him.

 Running his hand over his face, he blinked back the bitter wind and hunched his shoulders.

 “Fifteen. I’d been in the foster system for years before that, but fifteen was when I fucked off.” He leaned further into Kaidan, taking a bit of his warmth for himself. “My dad buggered off before I was born, and my mum died when I was three. Or so I was told. They never had any family so I became a ward of the state. Jumped from home to home until I just got fucking sick of it… No one really loves you, and the older you get the less likely it is you’re going to find your ‘forever home’. So I left before they could toss me out,

 “I was alone for a few months. Did a bunch of shit just to survive, like stealing and… other things I’m not proud of but… I did what needs to be done to keep going. It was only for a couple months, because then I met a girl named Jack.” Shepard smiled. It was one of the truly good memories he had.

 “She tried to steal my wallet, I caught her, and she introduced me to my current boss. She offered me a job, a place to stay, even a family. For a kid who had been sleeping on the streets I just couldn’t say no. Being alone on the streets is a sure way to land yourself in an early grave. I’d seen it before and I promised myself I wasn’t going to be one of those statistics. So I joined up—pledged my allegiance to my boss, and I’ve been working for her ever since… just making it day by day.”

 He rocked back on his heels, the stones under his feet shifting with his weight. “I’m not proud of a lot of the shit I’ve done, and I try and… fuck, I don’t know—I try and forget about it. But sometimes it just comes back and I can’t ignore it. I can’t brush it all aside and say fuck it. And when it gets to me… well, I fuck off again. Run away until it becomes easier to deal with.”

 He rubbed his eyes and gazed up at the moon.

 Kaidan was silent next to him. Wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking—just stood next to Shepard. Shepard didn’t know what he was thinking and wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. He kept his attention fixed on the moon and the crater near the top, jaw clenched tight and body shaking from the cold.

 He’d given it all up. It was in Kaidan’s court now. Shepard just braced for the inevitable impact.

 “I… I can’t relate to your life, Shepard,” Kaidan said quietly. So quietly Shepard strained to hear him over the ocean. “And I know that whatever words of comfort I have are going to sound really… trite and insincere. I’ve been pretty lucky in my life. I mean, I’ve had my issues but… now isn’t the time for that. The point is: you’ve lived a rough life and you did what you needed to do to make it through. And I respect you for it.”

 Shepard felt his heart clench, and he swallowed back the hope. Kaidan… respected him?

 Kaidan reached up and caught Shepard’s chin in a gentle hold. Turning to look at him, Shepard locked eyes with familiar whiskey brown, the strength and understanding hitting Shepard in the gut.

_Kaidan’s not running…_

“You’re a survivor, John. Your past doesn’t define you—what you do now, today, is all that matters. The fact that you managed to make it this far and are still standing is… it’s incredible. _You’re_ incredible, John. Don’t ever doubt that.”

 Shepard couldn’t believe it. If it were anybody else—if it were anybody with some goddamn common sense—they’d be running about now. But instead Kaidan was telling him everything he needed to hear, reassuring him in a manner he wasn’t used to. He was supporting him, even though Shepard knew that he’d done a hell of a lot of shit that Kaidan should be judging him for.

 Kaidan was the incredible one here—not him.

 Not knowing what to say, and figuring anything he did say would sound stupid, Shepard just nodded and placed his hand over Kaidan’s on his cheek.

 “Thanks,” he said.

 Kaidan smiled and moved in for a slow, perfect kiss. Shepard relaxed into it, eyes closing and body pressing in close.

 Kaidan was still here with him.

  
  


XX

 They ended up finding a motel just a few klicks off the highway. Residing in some logging town, the rooms were simple and dated, the curtains plaid and the artwork some bizarre print of moose with a pastel mountain background. When they arrived there was only one room left with a queen sized bed, and Shepard did his best impression of a heterosexual only marginally alright with having to sleep in the same bed with his best friend.

 They could never be too careful. Shepard knew that despite the fairly liberal appearance of Vancouver, the backwoods weren’t too friendly to guys like him.

 As soon as they were in the room they undressed and curled up in bed, Shepard with his face pressed against Kaidan’s neck, breathing in his scent as they lay on a lumpy mattress that had seen better days. Kaidan kept him in close, their legs tangling, a position Shepard had never been accustomed or comfortable with until he’d met Kaidan.

Shepard woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through a crack in the curtain windows. He could hear the chirp of birds outside and the low rumble of a train gliding over tracks a short distance away. It was oddly soothing, and he found himself drifting back to sleep, more than a little warm under the blankets but content all the same.

 His breakdown yesterday seemed a thing of the past. Right here, curled under the blankets with Kaidan pressed against his back, Shepard felt like maybe it hadn’t happened at all. Like they’d just taken a trip together for the sake of getting out of the city for a bit.

 But Shepard wasn’t afforded such domestic flights of fancy.

 Aria was probably going to kill him when she found out he’d taken off, and if she didn’t kill him for that, she would if she found out he’d told a cop’s son he ran with a gang. But what Kaidan had said last night held true: yesterday doesn’t define you—today is what does.

 And today, Shepard was in bed with a guy who didn’t think he was a piece of shit. And who also had one massive morning erection pressed against his ass.

 Moving back against him, Shepard ground against Kaidan in slow circular motions. Kaidan’s arm tightened around his waist, and a low, raspy hum slid across Shepard’s shoulder and down into his gut. He kept moving back, noting how Kaidan’s movements became more forceful as he slowly woke up.

 Kaidan’s hand rubbed his stomach, and another slow hum slipped out. Reaching back, Shepard cupped the back of Kaidan’s hair, fingers tangling in curly black locks. He closed his eyes and arched as Kaidan’s hand moved further down until he was being cupped through his boxer-briefs.

 They just kept rubbing, Kaidan feeling Shepard through the slit, fingers teasing. It was slow; it was unhurried. It felt foreign to Shepard and yet he let it happen, something about the newness of it all appealing. He trusted Kaidan.

 Pressing his face into the pillows, Shepard bit the fabric as Kaidan kissed the back of his neck and grabbed the waistband of his underpants, pulling it down with a bit of force. Dropping his hand down, Shepard reached back and fumbled around with the band of Kaidan’s boxers, getting them over the swell of his ass but catching on his cock.

 Kaidan chuckled—deep and hoarse that hit Shepard like a warm wave—and freed his member before guiding himself between his legs. Groaning as Kaidan’s heat pressed in between his thighs, Shepard kept moving back, urging Kaidan to go faster.

 He didn’t. He drew it out for as long as he could. Sweat built up between them while Kaidan’s hands roamed over his chest and down his stomach to his groin. He stroked him with a steady hand, his breath sliding along his ear and down his neck, stubble rubbing pleasantly against his sensitive skin.

 Everything felt heightened—the sunlight from outside was bright and the smell of clean sheets and Kaidan’s cologne thick in Shepard’s throat. He could hear Kaidan’s breathing like the swell and rise of the ocean, and feel his heartbeat, steady and strong against his back.

 It was new and terrifying; and Shepard embraced it.

 Today was a new day…

 Gripping Kaidan’s thigh Shepard kept him going, the pace speeding up the longer they moved. He had no idea how long they were like this; didn’t really care. If they missed check-out time they’d just pay for another night even if they never used it.

 Kaidan was full-on hugging him near the end, his hands shaking as they held on to Shepard. A few more thrusts and Shepard could feel Kaidan coming, a loud moan muffled by Shepard’s shoulder as he curled in on him, body quaking and hands holding on with bruising force.

 “John…”

 Shepard came then. Everything felt so fucking good in that moment; better than anything he’d felt in a long, long time. Kaidan’s body, Kaidan’s voice, Kaidan’s entire aura—it was perfect. It was all consuming and terrifying and Shepard leapt in without a backward glance.

 They lay with each other afterward, Shepard opening his eyes to see the cold light had warmed up as it shone in. It was mid-morning now. They had probably overstayed their welcome.

 Shepard didn’t give a fuck.

 Kaidan moved from between Shepard’s legs, and Shepard rolled over to look up at him as he sat on the mattress, the indent of his pillow still visible on his cheek.

“Morning,” Kaidan said, smiling softly.

 Shepard just smiled back and reached out to rub Kaidan’s arm with his finger. For some reason Shepard expected the way Kaidan looked at him to have changed. Perhaps more hesitancy with his affection. Instead he looked like he always did—a naïve, handsome fucker with crazy bed-head.

It then struck Shepard just what Kaidan had done. Without pause he’d helped Shepard out, no thought of what he could get out of it. Shepard came for help and Kaidan soothed—gave him the means to escape if just for a little while. No hesitation, no payment required.

 No one had ever done that for Shepard. They always wanted something in return.

 Except for Kaidan.

 “Wanna get something to eat?” he asked.

 Kaidan nodded. “So long as they have coffee I’m fine with wherever.”

 Shepard sat up and kissed Kaidan’s shoulder, watching his brows rise an inch at the gentle gesture.

“I’m feeling coffee and eggs,” he said.

 Kaidan smiled. “And bacon.”

 Shepard chuckled. “Yeah, okay—bacon. My treat.”

 “You sure?”

 “Either that or gas money,” Shepard mumbled, kissing along Kaidan’s shoulder and up his neck.

“Mm… how about shower sex and breakfast?”

 Shepard grinned. “Deal.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR BEING AWESOME, EVERYONE. This chapter we get further background development and our two boys realized something we've always known-- they're gigantic saps.
> 
> No massive warnings except for a discussion of past medical concerns and a childhood disease.

 It was hard to believe the man building a tower out of coffee creamers had lived the life he had.

 Or maybe it wasn’t so unbelievable. When Shepard had on his black leather coat with a cigarette dangling between his lips, hands shoved in the pockets of ripped up jeans, and an expression of ‘fuck off’ sitting hard on his face, Kaidan could see the edges; the rough lines that were drawn across him, making him appear harsh and brutal.

 Ruthless even.

 Kaidan saw the scar on his skull and felt the bump on his collarbone from a repeated break. He knew he carried a knife in his back pocket and kept his attention on all entrances, guard high even in some backwater truck stop next to the highway. He was a man made on the streets, with the swagger and stature of someone born with bitterness in their mouth and a jaded realism about the world.

 On some level Kaidan knew this the day they met. Yet hearing and seeing Shepard deal with his past brought home to Kaidan just how fucked up everything was. Shepard was no longer the brooding Rebel without a Cause hero Kaidan had projected on to him, and he wasn’t just some bad-boy teenage fantasy. Shepard was… Shepard.

 He was a survivor; a man who had stared death in the face and gave it the middle finger. He was unapologetically crass and loud—someone who took up his fair share of space because he earned it. Instead of cowering and hiding away, he reclaimed his personhood from a world that wanted to take it from him.

 Kaidan still didn’t have the words to capture how grateful he was that Shepard trusted him with such personal information, but he didn’t think Shepard would receive whatever he had to say with open arms. He didn’t need his approval, and Kaidan didn’t want to insult him by giving it.

 All Kaidan could do was sit in awe of the person in front of him.

 He was amazing in Kaidan’s eyes. A man worth knowing. A man worthy of—

 “—love?”

 Kaidan looked over at the waitress as she stood in front of the table, penciled on eyebrows raised high, her foot tapping on the linoleum floor.

 “Sorry?” he mumbled, realizing he’d been staring off into space.

 The waitress rolled her eyes and sighed. “I said: ‘what can I get you, love’?”

 Kaidan hesitated. He hadn’t opened his menu.

 “I’ll uh… I’ll have what he’s having,” Kaidan said, sitting back as the woman grabbed his coffee mug and filled it to the brim.

 She nodded tersely and walked back behind the counter without writing anything down.

 “What did you order?” Kaidan asked Shepard as soon as the waitress was out of earshot.

 Shepard chuckled and passed Kaidan a creamer and two packets of sugar. “Their trucker special.”

 Kaidan had no idea what that was. Evidently he looked like he was lost because Shepard quickly elaborated.

 “Eggs, two sausages, three strips of bacon, and a side of pancakes,” he listed, tapping his fingers as he did so.

 “Sounds… delicious,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard shrugged. “Figured we could use the food after this morning.”

 He was grinning his Cheshire grin.

 Kaidan realized he’d named one of Shepard’s smiles, and couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

_You’re in deep, Kaidan. Keep your head above water…_

Kaidan returned the smile and leaned on the table, mindful of the truckers, loggers, and various travelers sitting all around them in the greasy café.

 “This morning was a lot of fun,” he said, preparing his coffee. “I’m a big fan of… lazy mornings.”

 “Yeah, I know,” Shepard said. He took a sip of his coffee and sat back in the booth, arm resting on the back casually. “In the three months we’ve been together, not once have you turned down a ‘lazy morning’. Not that I’m complaining—you’re nice and warm in the morning.”

 Kaidan couldn’t help but grin. Finishing up his coffee prep he cupped the mug and brought it close to his nose, breathing in the cheap coffee smell. Kaidan didn’t give a shit if it was truck stop coffee; it was exactly what he needed. Blowing on the top he watched Shepard over the rim.

 He was staring out the window, the lines from the blinds crossing over his face in deep dark bands. It was sunny outside, light filtering in, catching the dips and raises on Shepard’s angled features. He was focused on something outside, attention fixed as he fiddled with the handle of his coffee mug.

 “You’re staring,” Shepard mumbled, a small smile playing at his lips.

 “Sorry,” Kaidan replied. He didn’t stop, though.

 Shepard didn’t seem uncomfortable and remained as he was, his hand running over his skull, brushing over shorn hair. He was relaxed; content, even. Kaidan could tell just by the way he slouched in the booth and fiddled with the edge of his mug.

 It occurred to Kaidan that he was becoming intimately familiar with Shepard. Not just as fuck buddies, not just as friends, but in a way that only two people ‘involved’ could be. It was like part of the barrier between them had been torn down last night, and Shepard felt comfortable with Kaidan; like he didn’t have to put on airs anymore.

 Which made Kaidan wonder…

 “Hey, John…?”

 Shepard turned, brow quirked. “Yeah?”

 Are we boyfriends sounded childish; are we partners sounded too official, and both had this constrictive quality about them that Kaidan wasn’t sure Shepard would entertain. Not to mention Kaidan wasn’t even sure now was a good time to have the ‘relationship talk’.

 “Kaidan…”

 He blinked away his thoughts and sat back. Shepard was inspecting him closely, the corner of his lip twisted in bemusement.

 “You okay?” he asked. A knee bumped his own under the table, and Kaidan pressed back.

 “Yeah, I’m totally fine. I just forgot what I was going to ask,” he lied.

 Shepard nodded slowly. “Right… okay…”

 He’d ask later. Like, maybe in a few years.

 Their food arrived soon after that. Mountains of grease, meat, and starch piled high up on each other until it was just a mass of food that Kaidan’s stomach growled loudly at. They dug in like two starved men, idle chat punctuating the devouring and squeak of cutlery against ceramic. The food wasn’t particularly well made, and the presentation was entirely lacking, but it had to be one of the best meals Kaidan had had in a long while.

 Maybe it was the company, with Shepard sitting across from him in _his_ hoodie, eating with just as much enthusiasm and talking about Star Wars. Maybe it was the setting, with the warm sunny rays streaming in to the diner and reflecting off old chrome napkin dispensers, characters from all walks of life enjoying a moment of rest in a hectic world. Maybe hunger really was the best spice like his mum had always said.

 It wasn’t worth overthinking. Kaidan just enjoyed the food, the company, and the atmosphere best he could.

 They both finished their plates and sat back with loud grunts. Shepard made move to undo his belt then stopped himself, obviously thinking better of it.

 “That was fucking amazing,” Shepard said, downing the last of his coffee.

 Kaidan hummed in agreement. He needed a nap now. Instead he flagged the waitress as she passed by and asked for one last cup. They had a long drive back to the city, Shepard having taken them almost four hours up the coast.

 “I haven’t had quite that much sugar in a long while,” Kaidan said. Their pancake plates were sticky with cheap maple syrup. “I think I’ll need to go book an appointment with my dentist when I get home.”

 Shepard chuckled. “Man, Kaidan… did anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of a square?”

 “A square?” Kaidan repeated.

 “Yep.”

 Kaidan laughed. “Really, John? A square? I’m at least an octagon. I’ve got multiple sides to me.”

 Shepard shrugged, a large grin on his face as he picked up sugar granules with the pad of his finger. “Okay fine—you’re an octagon.”

“Damn straight.”

“With perfect teeth. Because he visits his dentist after eating maple syrup.”

 Kaidan was about to tell Shepard all about his flossing routine when his phone began buzzing in his back pocket. Pulling it out, Kaidan had no intention of answering until he saw the name on the screen.

 ‘Mom’.

 “I gotta take this,” he said. “It’s my mum.”

  _Fuck—I am a square._

 “Hey mum—can I call you back?” he said quickly, mindful of Shepard.

 “Really, Kaidan? That’s the first thing you’re going to say to me?” his mother said, voice deadpan. Kaidan could hear his father in the background snorting loudly.

 “I’m with company,” he said.

 There was a pause, and Kaidan could practically hear his mother’s smile.

 “Company?” she asked.

 “No one you would know,” he stressed. Shepard hid smile with his hand and turned his attention back to whatever was going on outside.

 “Well I won’t keep you from your ‘company’ for too long. Your father and I were only curious about your test results.”

 Kaidan paused. Test results? He had a test? When had he done a test? Did he miss a test?

 “Your medical tests…?” she elaborated the longer Kaidan stayed silent.

  _Oh, right._ His yearly physical, in which his doctors drew vile after vile of blood, stuffed him in MRIs and CAT-scans, and made him piss in a cup. _Those_ tests.

 “They came back clear,” he said, suddenly hyper-aware of Shepard sitting right across from him. “I got my full bill of health for another year.”

 “No signs of a recurrence?”

 “Nope. No recurrence.”

“Well that’s a relief—I’m glad we found out as soon as they came back with the results. It would have been a terrible worry if we had to wait a few days while our son neglected to call us.”

 Kaidan could hear the teasing in her voice but knew that behind her tone lay a hint of annoyance. He’d been wrong not to call right away, his parents constantly worried about his health, fussing over him any time he mentioned a migraine or a particularly stubborn headache. But he’d been distracted by the company sitting in front of him currently trying their hardest not to listen in.

 Kaidan could tell Shepard had heard, however. He looked too disinterested for it not to be an act.

 “I’m sorry, mum. But you knew if there had been anything I’d have called right away. The fact that I didn’t call should have been a… relief?”

 “Nice try. Next time you visit we’re having a chat about communication and familial responsibilities,” she said, and Kaidan could hear his dad snort again.

 Kaidan rolled his eyes. “Right. Sounds good. Now I _really_ have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

 “Fine, fine. Have fun with your company.”

 “Thanks. Love you.”

 “Love you, too.”

 Hanging up, he dropped his phone down on to the table and kept his eyes on the screen. Shepard was quiet but Kaidan could tell he was expecting something. Probably an explanation.

 Shepard had to have noticed the morning medication, with the countless numbers of pill bottles lined up like little soldiers in his bathroom. Shepard never said anything but Kaidan knew that there were suspicions. Suspicions that Kaidan also knew Shepard deserved to have confirmed. He’d just spilled his guts to Kaidan last night, trusting him with incredibly private information. Every scar, both physical and emotional, had been laid bare to Kaidan last night.

Kaidan owed him the same.

 Still, it was surprisingly hard to meet Shepard’s gaze. He kept his head ducked, eyes fixed on his phone screen and the obvious thumb streaks across it. Whenever he told people about his condition they treated him differently. They fussed and worried, asking invasive questions he knew weren’t meant in malice but stung just the same. They saw him like he was that child all over again, bent over a toilet as he puked his guts out after the latest round of chemo. He became vulnerable—like some weak, sickly person who needed constant attention and coddling.

 Kaidan had gone through years of self-reflection to get to the point he was at now—where he accepted what had happened and was ready to move on. But whenever he told people about his past they brought everything back; all the worry and the uncertainty, the fear and the pain. Kaidan had moved on, but everyone else kept trying to drag him back.

 He didn’t want Shepard to see him differently. He didn’t want Shepard to _treat_ him differently, either. He just wanted a normal life. Was that so much to ask? But it wasn’t normal, was it? The pills and the doctor visits, the migraines and the potential for seizures—they would always be there, and no amount of wishing and wanting was going to make that reality go away.

 Taking a deep breath Kaidan ran his hand through his messy hair, catching a curl on the way. He could feel the scars against his scalp, and rubbed the biggest at the base of his skull. Shepard didn’t say or do anything, just continued to pretend to be disinterested, arms crossed on top of the table casually.

 “I uh… I had…” Kaidan trailed off, the words catching in his throat as soon as Shepard looked at him.

 There was no sympathy in Shepard’s gaze—no worry or pity. He was looking at Kaidan like how he wanted to be looked at; like a capable, healthy man who didn’t need his hand held or his health constantly scrutinized. 

_I don’t want to ruin this…_

“You wanna get out of here?” Shepard asked.

 Kaidan let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding and nodded eagerly. He needed some fresh air.

 Shepard paid just like they’d agreed to in their deal and they strode out of the diner together, Shepard’s shoulder gently bumping Kaidan’s. It was nippy outside, the chill from the ocean hanging loosely in the air despite the sun, but it was crisp and refreshing and Kaidan took in a greedy breath.

 Shepard fish out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, eyes narrowing slightly when he noticed he only had one left. Shoving it between his lips, he light up and took a deep drag, cigarette smoke thick in the air as they stopped beside Kaidan’s car. Leaning against the door, Kaidan hunched over as a particularly biting gust of wind bit into him.

 The fact that Shepard wasn’t pressing Kaidan to tell him anything made him feel a little better. Shepard had already proved to be different from everyone else he knew. Maybe he’d be different in this respect, too…

 “I had cancer,” he said abruptly.

 Shepard looked up from the gravel in the parking lot. He let out a puff of smoke but didn’t say anything.

 “When I was a kid,” Kaidan continued. “I’m fine now, but… you know. It’s always lurking there, which everyone is keen to remind me of. I went for some tests and my mum just wanted to know the results. So… that’s why she called…”

 There. He’d said it.

 Shepard was quiet for a little while, head ducked as he took another drag, cheeks hollowing. Kaidan could see he was thinking, his brows furrowed as he ground a stone under his heel. Straightening he rolled his shoulders back and kicked the stone away.

“What kind?” he finally asked.

 “Brain.”

 “Shit.”

 Kaidan snorted. “Yeah… yeah, it was shit.”

 “And the migraines?”

 “Left-overs.”

 “But you’re alright now, yeah? No more cancer?”

 Kaidan nodded. “One-hundred percent—have been for over ten years.”

 “Good… good.” Shepard nodded and leaned against the car next to Kaidan. “Glad you kicked its ass.”

 Kaidan smiled. “Me too.”

 “I mean, it should have known not to fuck with you,” Shepard continued. “You might be a square, but you’re stubborn as fuck. Cancer never stood a chance.”

 “You mean octagon.”

 “Yeah—octagon.”

 There was comfortable silence, Shepard finishing up his smoke while Kaidan watched a man fill-up his truck at the station across the way.

 Shepard wasn’t prying; wasn’t asking invasive questions; wasn’t fussing and demanding details. He just accepted it and moved on. He didn’t dwell—not like everyone else.

 Kaidan wanted to kiss him for it.

 “We make quite the team,” Shepard said.

 Kaidan raised his brow and scratched his jaw. He needed a shave. “How so?”

 “You kicking cancer’s ass, and me living on the streets as a kid and making it on my own… we’re a bunch of stubborn survivors. Life tries to kick us in the balls but we just come back swinging.” He grinned and nudged Kaidan with his hip. “I knew there was a reason I saw something in you.”

 Kaidan couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through him. Shepard was fucking _incredible_.

 Dropping the butt on the ground, Shepard stepped on it before walking around the vehicle. “We should get out of here. I’m starting to get too comfortable—it’s making me feel fucking weird.”

 Only Shepard would be uncomfortable with being comfortable.

 Before Shepard could get into the car, however, Kaidan stopped him.

 “Hey, John.”

 Shepard stopped, door half-way open. “Yeah?”

 “Thanks… for, you know… not making a big deal out of it. Most people treat me like I’m China after I tell them. So… yeah. Thanks.”

 Shepard shrugged. “No problem. I think it was a wise old octagon who told me that your past doesn’t define you—it’s who you are today that matters.”

 “He uh… must have been pretty smart,” Kaidan said.

 “He has his moments,” Shepard said, winking.

XX

 Kaidan spent the next week glued to his phone for an ungodly amount of time. Any time Shepard texted him he would reply as soon as he saw it, and before he knew it two hours had passed and hundreds of texts exchanged. Stupid, trivial things too, like what was better, Chinese or Vietnamese food or who would win in a fight, Rick Mercer or Stephen Colbert.

 He had become that annoying friend who looked at his phone every five minutes, and would literally stop everything he was doing in order to send Shepard a smiley face text and nothing more.

 It was rude; it was stupid; it was childish.

 And it was _fun_. Kaidan enjoyed the triviality of it all, where not everything had to have a specific meaning. He and Shepard weren’t tripping over each other, trying to figure out what the other meant while also trying to impress.

 They were friends.

  Kaidan hoped something a little more, too.

 That was one conversation that hadn’t come up during their insane texting marathons. Kaidan was too afraid to ask ‘what are we’ in case Shepard spooked and ran away. He didn’t want to pressure Shepard into anything, loathing the idea of ruining what they did have by asking a question Shepard wasn’t keen on answering, and so he made do by sending Shepard a poo emoji while Tali and Liara fought over who was better: the dark and handsome rebel, or the cute and blonde academic.

 “Rory needs to stick with Logan—he’s a solid, viable choice,” Liara said. “Besides, they come from the same world. She and Jess would never have stuck it out; they’re too different.”

 “Opposites attract, Liara,” Tali said from around her drink straw. Taking a sip of her ice tea, she continued. “Jess gets who she _is_. He’s a troubled artist and a novelist. He’s deep and soulful. She needs to run back to him as soon as she can. Logan is a _jerk_.”

 Liara rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Tali. Can you get any more cliché?”

 “You’re the one who obsessed over Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask.”

 “I grew out of it!” Liara shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth and chewed quickly.

 “What do you think, Kaidan?” Tali asked. “Do you like the deep, brooding artist, or the asshole rich boy?”

_I think my brain is bleeding out of my ears._

 “Uh… I like Jess’ hair. So… we’ll go with him.”

 Liara rolled her eyes and curled up further on the couch next to him. Tali grinned and grabbed the controller, starting the next episode.

 Picking up his phone Kaidan checked to see if Shepard had replied. He hadn’t. Sighing, he tossed it back on to the cushions between them and resigned himself to another hour’s worth of fast-talking, witty drama.

 There was a knock at the door.

 Everyone’s head’s whipped around, Tali almost poking her eye with her straw in the process.

 “Are you expecting anyone?” Liara asked.

 “Maybe Ashley got out of practice early?” Tali proposed.

 “Why don’t I go check,” Kaidan suggested. Standing up with a grunt, he waved his hand when Tali made move to pause the show. “Keep watching—I’m sure you’ll fill me in when I get back.”

 Shuffling down the hallway Kaidan yawned and opened the door, only to come face to face with the very person he’d been thinking about obsessively for the last one-hundred and sixty-eight hours.

 “Shepard.”

 “Hey.” Shepard was smiling as he rocked back on his heels, Kaidan’s hoodie under his arm. “My favourite bar is hosting karaoke night, and as much as I’d love to start a bar-fight with someone who thinks they can sing Wind Beneath my Wings, I figured I’d come here and drink all your beer instead.” He passed Kaidan his hoodie. “I cleaned it, by the way. And then wore it again so… it kind of smells like me.”

 He scratched the back of his head, an oddly sheepish but endearing gesture.

 Kaidan took the hoodie and used it to drag Shepard in for a slow kiss. Shepard hummed into it, his arms wrapping around Kaidan’s waist before his hands found purchase on his ass. Kaidan deepened the kiss, cupping Shepard’s cheek.

 “Who is it—oh _shit_.”

 Kaidan turned just in time to see Tali scuttle back around the corner.

 Well… so much for Shepard being Kaidan’s little secret. He supposed that they’d find out sooner or later; he just wished it hadn’t been with Shepard’s hands groping his ass.

 “You’ve got people over?” Shepard asked. He stepped back out of the apartment.

 “Just a couple friends taking advantage of my Netflix,” he said. “You should come in and hang out for a bit. I’ve got beer and popcorn.”

 Shepard stayed where he was. He looked down the hallway then back at Kaidan. “I don’t want to crash your party...”

 “Three people in sweatpants watching television is a party now?” he said, smiling slightly.

  _If Tali fucked over my chances of getting laid…_

 Shepard hesitated a moment longer. Kaidan must have been wearing a pitiful expression, however, because he soon nodded and stepped back inside, shutting the door behind him. Leading Shepard into the living room he ignored Tali’s shit eating grin. Liara turned around on the couch, brows raised high and lips parted in a surprised ‘o’. 

 “So uh, this is Liara and Tali. Guys—this is Shepard,” Kaidan said, still ignoring Tali’s grin.

 “Oh… uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Shepard,” Liara said while standing. A few popcorn kernels dropped to the ground and she hastily picked them up. Extending her hand, Shepard accepted it in a rough shake.

 “Nice to meet you too,” he said. He looked as awkward as Kaidan felt.

 Meanwhile, Liara was eyeing him like he’d just neglected to tell her that the Nuclear Apocalypse had begun.

 Tali hopped off her chair and shook Shepard’s hand as well. “Nice to put a face to the hands.”

“Right, okay then! Shepard, why don’t we go grab those beers, eh?” Kaidan suggested loudly. Shepard nodded and followed Kaidan into the kitchen, Liara and Tali’s murmurers carrying down the hallway.

 Throwing open the fridge he grabbed two lagers and twisted the caps off. Passing one to Shepard, he took swig of his own, the bitter draught slipping down his throat pleasantly. Shepard drank long and deep, Kaidan admiring the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he took in almost half the bottle in one go. Putting it down with a ‘thunk’, he burped and brushed the back of his hand over his lips.

 “So… those are your friends.”

 “Yeah.”

 “How long you known them for?” He burped again, a quiet apology following afterward.

 Kaidan leaned against the counter and fiddled with the lip of his bottle. Shepard was hunched over the counter, hands braced on the granite, expression serious. He was clearly uncomfortable, and Kaidan didn’t know how to make him more at ease short of kicking his friends out.

 “I’ve known Liara since Junior High. I met Tali when I was a TA for a chemistry course she was taking as an undergrad,” he explained.

 Shepard nodded before taking another drink, this time just a sip rather than a marathon of chugging. “They seem… nice. Although I feel like I’ve already pissed Liara off.”

 “She’s pissed at me—don’t worry about it. She’s just protective; kind of like my dad in a way. I never told them about you so I think she feels betrayed or... something.”

 Shepard nodded. “I get that. I didn’t tell Jack about you. Figured the less you were implicated in that part of my life the safer you’d be. What with your dad and all…”

 Kaidan had almost forgotten about his father. Shepard ran in a gang and dealt in drug dealing; his father was a cop, patrolling the streets making sure people like Shepard didn’t ruin some poor guy’s life by selling him that lethal dose of cocaine. It was like some fucked up modern day Romeo and Juliet—the cop’s son falls for the gang banger.

 How could he forget something so obvious?  

 And yet Kaidan didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, Shepard was just Shepard. Everything else was inconsequential to the man before him.

 “Plus, you know… I’m not really the guy you bring home to the family.”

 “I’m not ashamed of you if that’s what you're thinking,” Kaidan said quickly, “I just thought you’d be pissed if I told everyone about us. We’re just friends with benefits, right? I didn’t think you wanted me to make it more than it is.”

 Shepard sighed and rolled the edge of the bottle against the counter. “If you did make it more… what would you make it?”

 “What?”

 Shepard sighed again, this time louder, and looked up at Kaidan. Clenching his jaw, he worked it back and forth a few times, Kaidan noting how his nostrils flared slightly.

 “Fuck it—did you want to date me?”

 It sounded like Shepard almost choked on the word ‘date’, but he powered through it, biting the words out like a man under duress. Not exactly how Kaidan pictured being asked.

 “I dunno—did you want to date me?” he asked, not wanting to box Shepard in.

 Shepard shrugged. “Well you say you’re not ashamed, and we hang out all the time. Plus, you send me emojis, and I usually hate emojis except when you send them. So if we were dating or whatever that’d explain whatever the fuck is going on between us. Because we’re clearly not just fuck-buddie anymore and it’s fucking me up. I have no fucking clue what we are, Kaidan. So yeah. Maybe I do. Maybe I want to label it.”

 “You want us to be a couple,” Kaidan said, a lazy smile appearing on his lips. His heartrate increased slightly, and he found the palms of his hands were tingling with an excitement he hadn’t felt since the first time they’d kissed.

 Shepard wanted to date.

 He wanted to be a couple.

 He wanted to be his _boyfriend_.

 “I mean yeah, I guess.”

 Kaidan laughed and brought Shepard in for a sweet kiss. Shepard stayed stiff, but Kaidan coaxed a smile out with another kiss. Cupping his jaw, Kaidan kissed him a third time, and this time Shepard finally relaxed, arms wrapping around his waist. Pulling away slightly, Kaidan pet Shepard’s cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, admiring the blush of embarrassment on his cheeks.

 “I guess that makes it official, eh?” he said.

 Shepard nodded. “Yeah… guess it does.”

 “How does being labeled feel?”

 “Kinda warm.”

 Kaidan laughed and pulled away. Grabbing his beer, he held it up for a toast, Shepard clinking their bottles together.

“To labels,” Shepard said.

 “To finally admitting to our feelings,” Kaidan replied.

 They took a deep drink.

 “You can tell your friends about me, but don’t tell your dad,” Shepard said once he’d polished off his lager.

 Kaidan nodded in agreement. “Oh for sure. _Totally_ not telling my dad.”

 Grabbing another beer from the fridge, Shepard patted Kaidan’s ass as he passed by. “Your friends are going to be knee-deep in Netflix by now.”

 Kaidan followed behind, unable to lose his smile. Not even Tali’s eyebrow waggling and Liara’s obvious curiosity could make him stop grinning like an idiot.

 Taking a seat on the end of the couch as far away from Liara as he could, Shepard kicked his feet out and made room for Kaidan. Flopping down beside him, Kaidan grabbed the popcorn bowl from the table and offered some to Shepard.

 “So is anyone going to fill me in on what this show is about, or am I going to have to guess?” Shepard asked, cramming the popcorn into his mouth.

 “Well,” Tali began, “the really important thing to keep in mind while you watch the show is that it is about a mother and daughter who talk incredibly fast, live quaint, picture perfect lives, visit a café run by a gruff—but lovable—man with a baseball cap, and that Jess is Rory’s true love—”

 “Don’t listen to her,” Liara interrupted. “Jess is a scoundrel and a—”

 “He’s a wounded soul, Liara!”

  Kaidan pressed against Shepard while the debate started up again. Catching Shepard’s attention, he kissed the corner of his jaw and stayed tucked in close. Fuck Jess and fuck Logan—Kaidan had Shepard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liara total dressed up as Sailor Moon for Halloween one year and insisted Kaidan be her Tuxedo Mask. He bought a real rose and cut his hand on the thorns and his dad had to bandage his hand up so he'd stop crying, even though the cuts were super minor. It was the best night of Liara's life and Kaidan wanted to strangle himself with his cape.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night! Also plot development but whatever. Date night!

  “I didn’t think you were one for holiday cheer.”

 Aria sighed and tossed her mobile down on her desk. “It was Nyreen’s idea. She thought it would bring some… _charm_ to my office.”

 The small fake Christmas tree sat primly on top of a filing cabinet, the tiny decorations creating sparkling reflections on the ceiling. Shepard poked the star on top, noting that it was glued on.

 “Ever thought maybe Nyreen is making you go soft?” he teased. Turning around, he grinned while Aria scowled.

 “Never say that again.”

 Approaching the windows overlooking the club, Shepard leaned against the frame, noting Vega behind the bar counting bottles against the wall. All the lights in Afterlife were on, the floors and their scuffmarks on full display while employees prepared for the night ahead. Shepard envied them. Sure, the entirety of Afterlife was paid for by the business Aria conducted in the streets, but they were far removed from it. They worked their shift and went home—no cops badgering them, no rival gangs following them, and no bruised knuckles and split lips from some poor fuck who’d had enough.

 Life was easier for them. Simpler in a way.

 Sometimes Shepard wished he’d just been content as a menial grunt in the system. Instead he had to be something, even if it was a gang banger with a short life expectancy.

 “There a reason you called me up here?” he asked, turning away from the window.

 Aria’s face remained impassive, but Shepard could tell he’d pissed her off.

 “Do you have somewhere better to be?” she asked quickly.

 “No, ma’am. Just figured _you_ had somewhere better to be.”

 She rolled her eyes and stood. Approaching the window she stopped beside Shepard and looked down at her domain, arms crossed over her chest and the point of her heel dug into the wooden floorboards.

 “Word is Blood Pack smuggled in some guns from the States last week.”

 Shepard too crossed his arms over his chest, an uncomfortable gnawing sensation creeping into his gut. They’d seen this before, back when he was just a corner kid. Eclipse was the rival back then, and they’d managed to set their men up with unregistered handguns. They’d hoped it would give them an edge, particularly when Aria refused to deal in the arms market. A few stabbings here and there and some glassy eyed gangsters in a back alley wasn’t much the cops cared about; they were doing their job for them, taking each other out and leaving the streets that much more _respectable_.

 But gangs with guns caused collateral. They shot up stores, scared civilians, and sometimes some poor sod got caught in the crossfire—someone who had nothing to do with the squabbles for turf and illegal markets that the bullet was actually intended for. That was when the cops came down hard, raiding and arresting, making it look like they gave a shit to please the terrified Vancouverites not used to hearing the crack of a handgun going off in the middle of the night.

 Eclipse eventually got all their men arrested, but not before they killed a few good men in Omega.

 It was messy. It got a lot of people killed.

 And he and Jack and Finch, and the rest of them out on the streets keeping Aria’s area Omega’s area, were in Blood Pack’s line of sight.

 This also meant Blood Pack was looking to expand.

 “You told the rest of the guys about this?” he asked, watching her expression. Her brows had furrowed slightly, but it was the only outward evidence she even cared.

 “No. I’m keeping things close at the moment. Only Bray and Grizz know the full details. And now you, I suppose.” She rolled her neck to the side, Shepard hearing the muscles pop under the manipulation.

 “Think this is going to cause problems like last time?” he asked.

 “It is a possibility. But now that we know we can… prepare. I’ve already been in contact with a few of my people stateside. They’re tracking down whoever sold to the Blood Pack. Then… we’ll make sure they stop.”

 She dropped her hands and walked back to her desk. Sitting on the edge, she picked up her mobile and flipped through it, making Shepard wait for whatever it was she was going to tell him to do.

 She liked that—making men wait. Gave her some bizarre power kick. And Shepard always let her take it…

 “I want you to tell the rest that you’re not to be making any extra trips outside of the Eastside,” she said, dropping her phone back on to her desk. Locking eyes with Shepard, she continued. “I want my men close in case anything should happen. The younger ones—corner boys and such—should travel in groups. I know this is an inconvenience for you _personally_ , but I would appreciate some loyalty in the matter.”

 Shepard swallowed down the tension in his neck and jaw. She knew. She knew there was something going on.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck._

He just nodded, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Anything else?”

 “No.” She jerked her head to the door. “Don’t tell them about the guns.”

 He nodded and made move to leave, not wanting to piss her off further, but her voice caught him at the door and he stopped, hand hovering over the handle.

 “I don’t know what has attracted your attention these last few weeks, but remember this, Shepard: no shiny toy, fancy ride, or tight fuck buddy—whatever you want to call it—is going to give you what I’ve given you. Remember where your loyalties lie… and remember that it is never worth it to piss me off.”

XX

 Shepard’s muscles strained, sweat trailing down the dip in his spine and across his brow. Breathing hard and heavy through his nose, he gripped the bar harder and pulled himself up, chin surpassing it once again.

 Short of fucking and fighting, working-out was one of the only ways to keep Shepard from crawling out of his own skin. He didn’t like being caged in—didn’t like having his freedom taken. The new curfew was restricting him from going anywhere; from getting out of the shit-hole he was in even if it was just for a few hours every weekend. He didn’t like that Blood Pack was creeping around in the background planning fucked up shit. He didn’t like that a kid had been found dead from a cocaine overdose just a block away. He didn’t like that he hadn’t seen Kaidan in almost two weeks and couldn’t even tell him why.

 He just didn’t like any of it. It sat hard in his gut and crawled under his skin, working its way into his head until he felt like screaming his throat raw. But there was no BMW and late night drives to save him this time; no warm lips against his own and strong hands pulling him apart to go in long and deep and hard; no whiskey-smooth voice to tell him shit was going to be o-fucking-kay.

 So he worked out until his muscles did the screaming for him.

 There was a low whistle behind him.

 “Now take your pants off,” Jack said. There was the click of a camera going off on a phone.

 Dropping down from the bar, Shepard grabbed his water and turned around, taking a big mouthful while Jack took another photo with his phone.

 “What are you doing?” he asked.

 “Taking photos for you to send to your boyfriend.” She said boyfriend in a sickeningly sweet voice, complete with an exaggerated eye roll.

 Snatching his phone from her he looked through the pictures. One was of his back and shoulders as he was pulling himself up for one last rep. The second was him with cheeks full of water and an annoyed scowl on his face. At least the first one was kind of hot…

 “I’m sure he’ll give you his thanks,” he mumbled, checking his messages. Kaidan had sent him one. It was just a trombone emoji.

“Is he telling you he wants to give you a rusty trombone?” Jack asked, peering over his shoulder.

 Shepard laughed. “God I hope so…”

 She shoved him hard into the counter on her way to the fridge, ‘ _you’re disgusting_ ’ slipping past her lips. Shepard just laughed harder in order to mask the fact that he was seriously picturing Kaidan giving him a rusty trombone.

 It had been two weeks since he’d last gotten off in a manner that didn’t involve his own hand and _only_ his own hand.

 “You’re really sweet on this guy, aren’t you?” Jack said, twisting the cap off of her beer. Tossing it on to the counter with a loud clatter, she chugged half of it then passed it to Shepard.

 Taking the offered drink, he took a small sip, avoiding the area where Jack’s sticky red lipstick was. “He’s alright.”

 “Just alright? You call him every day, Shepard. The last time you had a boyfriend… actually, I don’t think you’ve _ever_ had a boyfriend.”

 Shepard ignored her and sat down on the cheap barstool next to the counter. Bringing up Kaidan’s number, he sent him the first photo Jack took.

 “He’s got a tight ass,” he said, ignoring the feeling in his chest telling him that he was more than a nice ass. He was a lot more than that. But he couldn’t tell Jack that. She’d never let him live it down. “You don’t let a tight ass like that just go back into the river if you can help it.”

 “Right. And I’m the Queen of fucking England.” Grabbing the beer back, she stomped into the living room and flopped down onto the couch. Grabbing her video game controller, she un-paused her game and went back to shooting aliens.

 Shepard coped with the lockdown by working out. Jack shot up aliens, army commandos, and magical ogres.

 His phone buzzed with a message from Kaidan. Opening it, he smiled when he read it.

_[3:24] K: We should workout together soon. Naked… because that’s how we do it in Yaletown. Naked, sexy work-outs._

_[3:25] Shepard: Spot for me?_  
  
_[3:25] K: Sure thing ;)_

 “You should call him and invite him out,” Jack suggested over the sound of gunfire and squishy, meaty explosions. “I’m only suggesting because I’m sick of your moping,” she added.

“Yeah? And where would we go?” Shepard replied. “Down to the corner so I can show him how to peddle drugs? Or over to Afterlife so Aria can skin him alive?”

 “How about that bar you always go to?” Jack said, “The hipster one with the really tall dude behind the counter.”

 Palaven.

 Of course.

 Palaven!

 It was just on the outskirts of the Eastside—well within Aria’s boundaries but far removed from the realities of Shepard’s world. It was a bastion of normalcy in a place that shuddered at the thought. It was perfect for Kaidan—just a touch grungy and seedy, but not actually _dangerous_.

 Hopping off the chair, Shepard hurried into his room, dialing Kaidan’s number. Shutting the door, he collapsed on his bed and wiggled his toes as the phone rang twice before Kaidan picked up.

 “Hey you.”

 Shepard smiled then quickly brushed it away.

 “Hey. You busy right now?”

 “Nah, just having a late lunch. Last day working at the lab before Winter break, so we’re all cramming in as much time as we can.”

 Shepard frowned slightly. “You sound tired. Migraines again?”

 “Yeah. A few. Nothing I can’t handle, so don’t worry about it. What did you want to talk about?”

 “When are you going to your parents’ place in the interior?”

 “I leave in two days… why?”

 “I was wondering if maybe you wanted to, I dunno… meet up tonight?”

_I’m going crazy thinking about you; you’re the only good goddamn thing in my life. Please just say yes._

 “I’d love to. What did you want to do?”

_Thank god._

 “I’ll give you the address to a place I want to show you. Got a piece of paper?”

 Kaidan hummed, the sound of papers being shuffled around in the background. “Alright—shoot.”

 Shepard told him the address of a local bus stop a block from the place. “Don’t drive your car down here. It won’t survive the night if you do. You do know how to take the bus, right?”

 Kaidan chuckled. “I know how to take the bus, John. I’ll meet you at the stop at what time?”

“Seven?”

 “Kind of early for the bar…”

 “Yeah but… I just…” Shepard breathed hard through his nose. “I want to see you.”

 He could practically hear the sly grin on the other end. “Alright… seven it is.”

XX

 It was raining. Again.

 Standing in the bus shelter, Shepard leaned back against the glass, a smoke dangling from his lips. The elderly woman sitting on the bench next to him rolled her grocery cart a little closer to herself, but made no indication to her discomfort otherwise.

 Wasn’t like Shepard was going to steal a banana from her…

 He just had time to get halfway through his smoke when the bus pulled around the corner. The woman next to him stood up with the aid of her cane and adjusted her rain cap, giving Shepard a look out of the corner of her eye that told him _she_ was getting on _first_.

 Shepard could see Kaidan standing near the door as the bus came closer, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his lips. He was fully prepared to pull Kaidan off the bus and hug him right then and there, but as the doors swung open and Kaidan made move to jump out, the elderly woman surged forward and tottered onto the bus, dragging her grocery cart behind her.

 Immediately Kaidan was helping her, lifting the cart up and over the edge, Shepard watching with some amusement as Kaidan went full Boy Scout Mode. Shepard honestly couldn’t figure out what Kaidan was doing wasting his time with him. Kaidan was nice—he was courteous. He was everything Shepard wasn’t.

 The fact that he was being nice at all in the Eastside just proved that Kaidan truly had no idea how this place functioned.

 The amusement faded.

 Shepard regretted bringing him down here. Kaidan shouldn’t have to see the place he came from—shouldn’t be tainted by the grunge and corruption and death the Eastside brought. He didn’t like the idea of Kaidan knowing that this—all of this—was part of who Shepard was. That he really was some poor street kid who fought tooth and nail for the dignity he had.

 But then Kaidan was looking at him and smiling at him, and Shepard’s insecurities left with the bus.

 Dropping his half-finished cigarette on the ground, he stepped out from under the safety of the bus shelter and dragged Kaidan in for a hug.

 “Hey,” he said, burying his face in the crook of Kaidan’s neck, past the collar of his jacket and the flannel shirt he was wearing. He smelled fucking good.

 “Hey,” Kaidan replied, and Shepard could feel his lips press a kiss against the corner of his jaw.

 Stepping back he created a respectable distance between them, but couldn’t help but reach out and cup his cheek, briefly petting the skin, feeling the stubble rub against the pad of his thumb. Taking his hand back, he shoved them in his jacket pockets and nodded his head in the direction of the bar.

 “Let’s go.”

 “Where are we going?” Kaidan asked, following Shepard down the street.

 “This little bar I go to. It’s great—you’ll love it. It’s just seedy enough to be authentic, but you won’t get hepatitis C or any other shit from their drinks.”

  Kaidan chuckled. “I’m trusting you on this.”

 Shepard stopped in front and opened the door for Kaidan. “It won’t disappoint.”

 Palaven was still relatively empty, the various tables around the karaoke machine sparsely populated save for a trio of girls tapping away on their phones over glasses of beer, but Shepard knew things would kick up once people were finished dinner. At the bar itself a local was sitting nursing his beer, eyes heavy lidded as he drank away the work week in an old denim jacket.

 Shepard automatically gravitated toward the bar and Kaidan followed, both ignoring the glances thrown their way by the girls near the machine.

 “Look who found himself a friend,” Joker said from behind the bar. “And here I thought you weren’t nice to anybody.”

 Joker co-owned the bar with Garrus, the two having gone to university together. While Garrus was front of house, Joker was in the back, ordering the liquor and installing the horrendous karaoke machine to ‘lure in’ new clientele. He was rarely behind the bar, his physical limitations making it difficult to stand for too long or do much heavy lifting, but whenever he was there he made sure to piss Shepard off.

 Shepard rolled his eyes. “I’m just a dick to you, Joker. I’m very nice to your wife.”

 Edi loved him. She thought he was authentically ‘street’ Canadian and asked him question after question about his life and how he coped. She was odd in a Dutch sort of way, but Shepard kind of liked her. She had a unique view of things, and was down to earth in a way Shepard had come to find was a rare thing.

 She didn’t put on airs and didn’t judge Shepard. It was refreshing. Plus, Shepard’s bond with her pissed Joker off, and Shepard loved to see Joker squirm.

 Joker scowled and tossed two coasters onto the bar.

 “This is Joker,” Shepard told Kaidan. “Joker—this is Kaidan. My dude. Or, my… boyfriend.”

 He tried to make it sound casual—like it was no big deal he’d just called Kaidan his boyfriend— but the way Joker was grinning and raising his eyebrows right into the edges of his baseball cap told Shepard it sounded anything but that.

 He clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything else, choosing to ignore Joker’s reaction.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kaidan said, extending his hand for a shake.

 Joker shook his head. “No offence, but I don’t shake hands. They tend to bruise me.”

 “He’s delicate,” Shepard explained. “Don’t mind him. So where’s Garrus?”

 “Out in the back lifting heavy shit—don’t worry about it. He’ll be out in a little while and you can introduce him to Kaidan.” As he spoke he filled up two glasses with whatever was on tap.

 Shepard leaned against the bar and watched Kaidan out of the corner of his eye. He was bouncing back on his heels, lips slightly parted as he read the names of the drinks up against the back wall of the bar. He seemed relaxed.

 This was going good so far—sans Joker, of course.

 “You want something other than beer?” he asked.

 Kaidan shook his head and turned his attention back to Shepard. “Nah, beer’s fine. Might try a whiskey later, but that’ll be at the end. Never mix drinks, right?”

 Shepard nodded and grabbed the beers, thanking Joker with a nod before leading Kaidan to the corner where they could people watch to their hearts’ content.

 “Sorry about Joker,” he said, slipping into a seat across from Kaidan.

 “He’s quite the character,” Kaidan said. He took a sip of his beer but didn’t say anything about the quality. Shepard knew he was a bit of a beer snob, but he didn’t seem too put off by the lager in front of him.

 Kaidan shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the spare chair next to him. He was wearing a flannel shirt, the cuffs rolled up to show off his forearms while the buttons were undone near the top, subtly showing off his chest. His hair, usually perfectly styled, had more of a wave to it than usual, most likely from the rain. Either way, it looked good. _He_ looked good—really damn good.

 It was then that Shepard realized Kaidan had dressed up for him. It was subtle, but he could tell there had been purpose behind the outfit choice.

 Taking off his own jacket, he felt a bit weird dressed only in a t-shirt and jeans. Kaidan had this whole sexy lumberjack look going on, and here he was in what he always wore. He should have put more effort into things. Maybe worn a dress shirt too, or at least something with a collar.

_I’m freaking out over what I’m wearing. What the fuck have you done to me, Alenko?_

“This is a really nice place,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard shrugged. “It’s alright.”

 “No really, it’s great. Thanks for bringing me here. I like the… I dunno, the authenticity of it?”

 “I’m glad you like it.”

 Kaidan bumped their knees under the table and leaned forward. “I was surprised to get an invitation to go out tonight. I thought things were pretty stressful with work.”

 Shepard took a deep drink of his beer. “I missed you,” he said simply, lining up the bottom of the glass with the round logo on the coaster.

 Kaidan smiled, brown eyes twinkling under the yellow lights. “I missed you, too… and uh, that picture you sent me today just reminded me how much I miss you.”

 Chuckling, Shepard ran a hand over his hair, feeling the bristles. “I’ve sent you loads of dick pics.”

 “Don’t get me wrong, I like those too. But the one today just made me think about what it’d be like to see you on your back, with your legs spread as I—”

 “Shepard!”

 Shepard jolted back from Kaidan, knee hitting the underside of the table, their beers almost bouncing off and onto the ground.

 “Garrus,” he growled out.

 Garrus weaved his way between the tables like some unsteady scarecrow, skin sweaty and shirt soaked through from the rain outside.

 “Thought you could come in here and escape my notice?” Garrus said. He punched Shepard’s shoulder before extending his hand out to Kaidan. “Garrus Vakarian—hope you’re enjoying the bar.”

 “Kaidan Alenko—it’s a great bar,” Kaidan replied, standing to take Garrus’ hand in a firm shake.

 “You know, Shepard ditched me at a party to hook up with you,” Garrus said, crossing his arms over his chest.

 “Oh… I’m… sorry?” Kaidan said, sitting back down.

 “No, it’s totally fine. He has such trouble making friends, I’m just happy to see the little guy branching out.”

 Shepard snorted.

 “He’s not so bad once you get him to stop chewing on the furniture and barking at the neighbours,” Kaidan said.

_Traitor._

 Garrus chuckled and grabbed the glass candle holder on the table. Lighting the candle inside, he put it back where it belonged and sent Shepard a wink. Mood lighting—that was just great.

 It was a regular old Lady and the Tramp story. All they needed was some spaghetti.

 “You two have fun. And it was nice to finally meet you, Kaidan. Maybe your manners will rub off on Shepard.”

 “It was nice meet you, too,” Kaidan said, grinning. They watched Garrus leave before Kaidan turned back to Shepard. “You told them about me?”

 Shepard felt his cheeks go pink and took another drink of his beer to hide it. He told Garrus the day after they’d fucked about him, texting him to apologize for bailing but that he couldn’t pass up the ‘dark haired god’ in the corner.

 But the dark haired god with an ass like a statue had turned into Kaidan over the next few weeks, and before Shepard knew it, he was telling Garrus about how Kaidan had become his boyfriend over a glass of rum and coke.

“Yeah, of course,” he said as casually as possible.

 Kaidan was _still_ grinning. He looked so fucking happy about the fact that Shepard had told others about him. It was so _him_ to be ecstatic about such a simple thing. Unable to resist being closer to Kaidan, Shepard stood and pulled his chair around so it was right next to his. Flopping back down, he draped his arm casually over Kaidan’s shoulder.

 Kaidan didn’t say anything. He just leaned into side and rested his hand on his knee.

 “So… do they ever turn that karaoke machine on?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard quirked a brow. “Yeah… later on in the evening… why?”

 Kaidan shrugged. “Just curious…”

 If Kaidan tried to get him to sing karaoke…

XX

  Kaidan was trying to get him to sing karaoke.

 Shepard had staunchly refused, perfectly content tucked away in his little corner with his beer and peanuts while everyone else made asses of themselves. The bar had filled up quickly once the machine was put on, and people went up one after the other to sing along to the Spice Girls and Madonna.

 Kaidan had even gone up a few times, tipsy from the beer and overcome with the atmosphere. He wasn’t such a bad singer, his smooth, low voice lending itself to the music. What was hilarious, however, was his dancing. He wiggled his hips from side to side and pointed his fingers into the audience, head bopping to the beat. Shepard thought he was a pretty bad dancer, but Kaidan was something else.

 It was after his second song (‘Shot to the Heart’ by Bon Jovi) that he tried to get Shepard to go up with him for a duet.

 “It’ll be fun,” Kaidan said, flushed and more than a little drunk.

 “I’m having fun right here,” Shepard said, cringing as someone hit a horrible note.

 Kaidan grabbed the glass of water Shepard had gotten for him and chugged it, attention momentarily on the singing before he returned to his pestering.

 “C’mon, John… haven’t you always wanted to let that beautiful performer inside you out? I bet you have a great singing voice.”

 “I really don’t.”

 “Yeah? Because when we’re fucking you hit some amazing notes.”

 Shepard laughed. Kaidan was almost draped over him, close enough Shepard could count every eyelash and kiss the freckles above his brow. He smelled like cheap beer, cigarette smoke, and his rich cologne, and a lock of hair had come out and down to rest across his forehead. He looked incredible.

 Shepard couldn’t resist. Closing the short distance between them he kissed Kaidan deeply, Kaidan immediately returning the embrace. Cupping his jaw he kept the kiss going, Kaidan pressing back, a small moan slipping past. When they parted Kaidan’s eyes were foggy, lids heavy as he smiled slightly.

 “What?” Shepard mumbled, catching Kaidan’s bottom lip in another gentle kiss.

 “First time we’ve kissed in public…” Kaidan mumbled.

 Shepard supposed that was true. Kaidan was fucking with all his rules—don’t get attached, don’t worry about impressing anyone, don’t suck face with the cute guy in the corner of the bar…

 “Sure you don’t want to sing?” Kaidan mumbled, rubbing their noses together. He almost went in for another kiss but pulled away at the last second, clapping loudly and cheering for the girl who had just finished her personal rendition of ‘Staying Alive’.

 Kaidan was having an amazing time. He was laughing and smiling and getting into random little conversations with those around them. He wasn’t even that drunk—just feeling the good vibes around him. Garrus was giving them free drinks and providing a steady supply of encouraging thumbs up from behind the bar, and all of Shepard’s anxieties about the night slipped away along with the time.

 “Sign us up for something,” Shepard said.

 Kaidan turned to him, his grin turning into a soft smile. “Yeah?”

 “Yeah. But make it something really fucking horrible. I don’t want to do this seriously.”

_It’s going to be awkward enough as it is—might as well go in balls deep._

 Kaidan ended up picking Sonny and Cher. Standing up on the little stage with the lights shining down on him, Shepard held the mic with a vice-like grip and sang his part with his eyes locked firmly on the screen. Kaidan ended up wrapping his arm around his shoulder, forcing them to sway back and forth as they performed their duet.

 Kaidan’s part was half singing, half giggling, and Shepard slowly started to relax. He just thought about Kaidan and only Kaidan—not about the crowd in front or his friends in the back, didn’t think about his job and the potential for violence, didn’t think about Aria and how she fucking knew.

 All he thought about was Kaidan and his voice, and the heat of him around his shoulder and down his side as they swayed back and forth together on stage, singing their duet.

XX

 Kaidan wasn’t laughing so much as they ran through the heavy rain.

 “Fucking Vancouver,” he said as they sprinted around the corner, puddles splashing up, soaking the hems of their jeans.

_Fucking Vancouver is right—fucking entire West Coast of Canada._

 Shepard could see his apartment a block up and ran faster, Kaidan keeping up, shoulders hunched and head ducked. Taking the steps up to the door two at a time, he ripped the door open and ushered Kaidan inside before following. A blast of warm air hit him, sending a spike of shivers through his body.

 Kaidan was experiencing much the same, a deep gasp emanating from his stooped over figure. His hair was a wet mess, cheeks pink and the tip of his nose as well. He was smiling, however.

 “That was… bracing.”

 Shepard rolled his eyes and pushed the button for his floor. “C’mon.”

 Shepard’s apartment was one of the nicer ones in the Eastside, but he and Jack had to use most of their money from Aria to make it that way. It wasn’t lavish and luxurious like Kaidan’s, but it was home to Shepard— _his_ home, that he paid for with his own money. For a kid who lived his life on the streets and the welfare of others, it meant something to him to be able to call it his own.

 They stumbled into the dark apartment, kicking their shoes and jackets off with only minor fumbling. The walls were paper-thin, Jack able to hear every creak and sneeze, and Shepard stayed as quiet as he possibly could. Kaidan too remained silent, not needing Shepard to tell him he lived with a woman who would rip their balls off if woken up. Taking Kaidan’s hand, Shepard led him down the dark hallway and to his room. Turning on the light, he blinked back the brightness and shut the door quietly.

 Kaidan stood next to the bed in the small space, eyes flicking from one corner to the other, that stupid little smile on his face.

 “It’s nothing much,” Shepard said. Going to his closet, he subtly tried to close the broken door, but it did Shepard no favours and swung open, tilting over at a slight angle as the hinges creaked and groaned under the manipulation. Grabbing a towel from the bottom he tossed it at Kaidan, Kaidan catching it at the last second.

 “For your hair,” Shepard explained.

 “Thanks.” Kaidan began rubbing it over his head, mussing his hair up into a massive mess of black curls.

 Not wanting to gawk, Shepard turned back around and pulled out clothes they could sleep in, figuring Kaidan was about the same size. Undressing, he threw on his favourite shirt and sweatpants, Kaidan doing much the same but at a slower pace. As soon as the warm clothes were on and the wet ones kicked into a corner Shepard began to relax.

 Kaidan seemed not at all turned off by seeing Shepard’s meager living space. Shepard knew he should stop being surprised—Kaidan had proven time and time again that he wasn’t like the other rich guys up in Yaletown, lording their wealth over the rest of them. He was down to earth around Shepard, and didn’t seem to care that he lived in a cramped little apartment in the Eastside that overlooked **a** dumpster.

 “Be right back,” Shepard said. Hurrying to the bathroom, he grabbed a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water. Kaidan had drunk quite a bit, and given his head situation, Shepard didn’t want him to wake up and be in agonizing pain.

 Returning, he found Kaidan sitting on his bed fiddling with his model spaceship that normally rested next to his alarm clock on his bedside table.

 “Jack gave it to me. It’s from a video game she loves. I guess she thought I’d like it,” Shepard explained.

 “It’s cute,” Kaidan said, putting it back. “You don’t have a lot of decoration in here.”

 Shepard shrugged and put the glass and bottle of pills down next to the ship. “Haven’t had time to collect a lot of shit.”

 Kaidan nodded. “Living lean… I like it. Seems very you. No clutter or anything in your space… just… simple stuff; straight to basics.”

 Shepard turned off the light and returned to the bed. Climbing on to Kaidan’s lap, he pushed him down on to the mattress, stretching out on top of him.

 “You analyzing my psyche through my home décor?” he asked, kissing the corner of his mouth. They were both too tired to do anything, but Shepard couldn’t resist late-night make out sessions.

 Kaidan chuckled and caught him in a kiss. Humming, Shepard deepened it but kept it at the same pace—slow and steady and so fucking good. Kaidan wrapped his arms around Shepard’s waist, hands trailing up his spine then going back down—the motion repeated enough times Shepard felt like Kaidan was petting him.

 It felt good.

 Tangling his hands in Kaidan’s thick, wet locks, he petted him right back, noting how Kaidan shuddered slightly, goosebumps spreading out across his arms.

 He was still cold. Probably had something to do with the mess of wet shit on the top of his head.

 Breaking away, Shepard flopped down beside him on the bed and grabbed the covers. They weren’t silk or soft cotton like Kaidan’s, but they were still warm—if not a little scratchy. As soon as they were wrapped up tight under the blankets Shepard was dragged in for another kiss, this time a little lazier but no less pleasing.

 They kissed for some time, Kaidan letting out little moans here and there. Shepard could feel the start of his erection pressing against his thigh, but there was no urge to sort it out—no neediness from Kaidan telling him he wanted to get off. And so Shepard kept it innocent, kissing him and touching his neck and jaw, his shoulders and pecs. Kaidan slipped his hand under his shirt and petted his skin, innocent touches here and there accompanying the slow press of lips and rubbing of tongues.

 Eventually they broke apart, Kaidan lagging. He was smiling when they stilled, Shepard seeing it in the dark. Kaidan’s eyes were closed, limbs heavy as he rolled slightly so he was half on top of him.

 “I had a really good time tonight,” Kaidan whispered. He pressed his forehead against Shepard’s shoulder. “We should do this more often… I liked being invited into your world… into your life. I like being here with you.”

 Shepard wasn’t sure if that was such a good thing or not.

 He’d leave that debate for the morning.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to my brand new and super awesome beta, Annaraven. She writes some stellar mshenko fics on AO3, so go and check out her stuff!
> 
> And, once again, thank you for all your support. You guys are amazing!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rasberry kiss fights, Christmas time, and a very sad Shepard! Ta-da!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support, you guys! You're all amazing and I appreciate every single one of you :)

 Shepard’s bed was pretty small.

 Kaidan found he woke up frequently throughout the night, mindful of where his limbs were in relation to Shepard, not wanting to jab him with his elbow or shove his knee into his groin. It took a lot of maneuvering to get into a good position, it was hot, and police and EMS sirens kept going off throughout the night, but despite all that…

 It was a damn good sleep.

 Snuggled up with Shepard in his bed, surrounded by everything that _was_ Shepard, made Kaidan feel like Shepard was slowly becoming comfortable with him—their relationship, their different worlds, and where they stood as equals. He was letting Kaidan in, inch by inch, including introducing him to his friends and taking him _home_ with him, which was something Kaidan never thought he’d ever get to experience.

Kaidan was in Shepard’s home, lying in his bed, wearing his clothes, and sharing his space. Kaidan tried not to snoop, knowing Shepard valued his privacy, but he couldn’t help but touch the little ship figurine and appreciate the posters of old Kung Fu movie stars on his walls, smell the detergent he used on his sheets, and smile at the fact that he fit into Shepard’s clothes like they were his own.

 Shepard’s room was just so… Shepard.

 And he’d shared it with Kaidan.

 Staring up at the ceiling he watched the grey, dreary light stream in through the crack in between the oddly flowery curtains, utterly content. Shepard was nestled tight against him, his arm draped over his waist, and his groin pressed against his hip.

 Shepard shifted then, a soft puff of air against Kaidan’s neck followed by the sound of a yawn. Smiling, Kaidan turned so they were laying face to face, the bed creaking with the pressure. It was a small bed—definitely not made for two grown men—but Kaidan didn’t mind. There was something nice about being able to find Shepard right next to him, rather than searching for him in the dark as they drifted apart on his king sized bed.

 “Morning,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. Shepard’s eyes were still closed, but he smiled and shifted closer.

 “How’s your head?” Shepard asked, reaching up to gently ruffle his hair.

 “’s fine.” It really was. He’d had enough water last night that the only vestige of his heavy drinking was bad breath.

 Shepard hummed and ducked his head, nose pressing against his neck. Tilting his head to the side, Kaidan shivered as lazy kisses were pressed against his skin, Shepard’s stubble tickling him pleasantly. He felt Shepard’s erection press more insistently against his thigh, and felt a similar reaction bounce in his sweats.

 Or Shepard’s sweats, he supposed.

 “Sure it’s fine?” Shepard asked, nipping his earlobe.

 “Yep.”

 Shepard pressed a raspberry kiss against his neck.

 The mood took a dramatic turn then. Kaidan let out a holler as the wet vibrations shot through his neck and down his spine, and tried to push Shepard away, laughing as the assault continued. Shepard attacking him relentlessly with tickling fingers and raspberry kisses along his neck.

 “You f-fucking bastard,” Kaidan cried out. Wiggling, he managed to grab one of Shepard’s wrists and pull it away from his side, but Shepard’s lips continued to find purchase on his neck, stubble and lips rubbing against his sensitive skin.

 He could feel Shepard’s laughter against his chest—a low, pleased rumble. Resisting the assault, he managed to pin Shepard to the bed. Throwing his head back he escaped the raspberry assault, but Shepard continued to fight him, trying to get his hand free while bucking wildly up against Kaidan.

 “I couldn’t resist,” Shepard managed to get out between his laughter.

 Kaidan grabbed his other wrist and shoved Shepard’s hands up above his head, pinning them to the pillows. Grinning down at Shepard, he kept his weight on him, knowing Shepard was a slippery bastard when he wanted to be.

 “I was going to have sex with you, you know that?” Kaidan said. “You just had to go and ruin it.”

 Shepard continued to grin, eyebrows waggling. “You should have heard yourself, dude. You were squealing like a little pig.”

 Kaidan had had enough. It was Shepard’s turn to squeal.

 Letting go of his wrists, he didn’t give Shepard any time to react before he was shoving his shirt up and ducking his head down, pressing a big fat raspberry of his own against Shepard’s stomach.

 Shepard roared. He tried to get away but Kaidan did it again. Wiggling wildly under him, Shepard shoved Kaidan’s shoulders, trying to get him off but only managing to push him down lower. Kaidan wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass him by, and with a grin he grabbed Shepard’s pants and pulled them down, releasing his semi-hard cock to the cold air.

 Forgoing his erection, Kaidan went right for the kill, and raspberry kissed Shepard’s inner thigh.

_Now who’s squealing?_

 Shepard’s legs tightened and closed, locking Kaidan in place, almost strangling him with the band of his sweats.

 It was then that someone came running into the room.

 The door to Shepard’s bedroom ricocheted off the wall, and Shepard’s leg-grip relaxed enough that Kaidan could sit up in time to see some woman standing in the doorway with a mascara wand in one hand, and the other closed in a tight fist.

 “What the fuck did I tell you about your fucking noise level?” she yelled, eyes locked on Shepard.

 “Get the fuck out of my room, Jack!” Shepard said, frantically trying to cover his groin. Kaidan noticed and quickly shoved his pants back up.

 Jack just stood in the doorway, oblivious or entirely disinterested in the half-undressed state of her roommate.

 “Listen—I don’t care what you and your little boy toy are doing. I just don’t want to fucking hear it—got it?”

  _Boy toy? Really?_

 “Yeah yeah—got it. Now fuck off,” Shepard said, sitting up on the bed. Kaidan continued to watch the exchange, hands on his lap and legs curled under him.

 Jack seemed to lose her momentum afterward, obviously not expecting Shepard to agree so easily. She nodded hesitantly, her hand relaxing. “Good.”

 Grabbing the door handle, she was almost out of the room when she gave Kaidan an once-over, eyes narrowing slightly when she got to his hair. Reaching up, Kaidan tried to pat it down but to no avail. She snorted and slammed the door shut.

 Shepard collapsed back on the bed with a loud grunt, the corners of his lips turned downward.

 “Sorry about that. Jack’s kind of an asshole in the morning… and afternoon… and evening. Shit, she’s always kind of an asshole.”

 Kaidan nodded. “We uh… we _were_ being kind of loud.”

 Shepard snorted and peered up at Kaidan. “Don’t tell her that.”

 Kaidan chuckled and collapsed next to Shepard, wincing as his shoulder rubbed against the wall. Turning onto his side, he admired Shepard—all flushed and relaxed and happy. If anyone had told Kaidan he’d be having morning tickle-fights with the stranger from the party four months ago, he’d have laughed in their face.

 Shepard slowly lost his smile, eyes wandering over Kaidan’s features with an intensity Kaidan wanted to shy away from. Instead he let Shepard admire, leaning into his touch as gentle fingers slid along his jaw, tracing his features.

 He was pretty sure he closed the distance between them first, but Shepard met him halfway, the two embracing in a deep kiss. Wrapping his arm around Shepard’s waist, Kaidan slipped his hand under the band of his sweats and kneaded his ass, rubbing the soft, warm skin and firm muscle. Shepard groaned quietly into the kiss, hips rocking forward, his semi-erection coming back quickly with each deliberate squeeze from Kaidan.

 Kaidan responded in turn, the kiss going from needy to full-on hunger, Kaidan desperate for Shepard. The sounds Shepard was making—low and deep in his chest—were like ambrosia to Kaidan, and he wanted more. Shepard began to dominate the kiss, his hand cupping the back of Kaidan’s head, fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue rubbed against his own.

 Pulling away for only a couple of seconds, Kaidan sucked on his middle finger, coating it with spit. Shepard watched with parted lips and hazy blue eyes, a desire in his gaze as he watched the motion of Kaidan coating his fingers.

 Shifting so he was on top, he reached down between them and pushed his hand under Shepard’s pajama bottoms. Shepard immediately spread his legs and urged Kaidan forward, moaning softly as Kaidan pressed between his legs and slipped his middle finger inside.

 Wiggling it around, he made sure Shepard was comfortable before going in for another deep kiss, wrist twisting and finger curling as he moved it inside him. Shepard rocked up to meet him, moaning again into the kiss, being more vocal than he normally was.

 Kaidan ate it up.

 The bed creaked as they moved, Shepard pulling Kaidan’s pants down past the curve of his ass, freeing his erection. Gripping Kaidan’s wrist, Shepard pushed his hand away, and Kaidan thought maybe he’d made a mistake—that the tone had changed—but Shepard was just repositioning himself so that he was on top, sweats discarded and thrown across the room. Collapsing on to the bed, Kaidan stared up at Shepard, watching the light from the window create a halo around his head and across his broad shoulders.

 Nothing was said as their cocks were lined up and they began to move together in perfect unison. Kaidan bit his bottom lip, trying to keep from crying out, Jack’s previous outburst all the warning he needed. But when Shepard pulled the hem of his shirt up and around his neck to expose his chest, Kaidan couldn’t help but groan loudly, the sight of Shepard’s broad chest, pert nipples, and strong stomach with his dark red cock bouncing against his own too much for him.

 Shepard shifted his hips forward and began rubbing his balls and perineum against Kaidan’s erection, Kaidan watching his cock disappear and then reappear. Shoving Kaidan’s shirt up, Shepard braced his hands on his chest, fingers tweaking his nipples as he ground against him, shifting slightly so that Kaidan’s prick was nestled between his cheeks.

 It was almost over after that. Shepard kept working himself, speeding up until the headboard was definitely hitting the wall. Kaidan bit his bottom lip but couldn’t prevent the steady grunts from coming out as Shepard rolled his hips like he was made to dance like this.

 Reaching between his legs, Kaidan began stroking Shepard, bucking up against him as Shepard leaned back, hands braced on the bed next to Kaidan’s knees, body on full display as they fucked.

 Kaidan came then. Slamming a fist over his mouth he bit down on his knuckles, desperately trying to keep his noises in. He really didn’t want Jack storming in on them right now.

 Shepard came soon after. He had been grinning before—feral and dangerous almost—but now his lips were parted in a soft ‘o’, cheeks pink and flushed.

 “Kaidan,” he panted out as they came down from their high.

 Kaidan laughed breathlessly. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

 Two weeks. Two long, torturous weeks of no sex, no kisses, no Shepard.

 “Worth the wait?” he asked. He was still sitting on top of Kaidan, hot and heavy and sticky.

 “Definitely.”

 Kaidan pulled Shepard down for a kiss, grinning into it. They kept the kiss going even as Jack slammed her fist against the door and reamed Shepard out once more.

XX

 It was hard to say goodbye to someone for a couple of weeks—even harder when you knew they didn’t have anyone to spend the holidays with.

 Saying goodbye to Shepard at the bus stop outside his apartment was harder than Kaidan had expected. He was hunched over in his jacket, Kaidan’s hoodie on underneath, the blue hood poking out from around the collar. They didn’t say much as they stood side by side, watching the rain come down steadily, Kaidan secretly hoping the bus would be late.

 He’d made them omelets for breakfast after sex, giving the biggest to Jack as a peace offering. There was a tension there Kaidan suspected had less to do with the noise level and more to do with Kaidan’s presence entirely, but Shepard waved it off and kissed Kaidan before wolfing down his food, complimenting him the entire time. Afterward, loathing the idea of leaving too soon, Kaidan taught Shepard his secret to making a proper cup of coffee, Shepard watching him like a hawk, paying attention to every element. Shepard had an eye for detail, taking in the smallest of things and applying it with perfection the next time he tried it.

It had seemed easy to forget that Kaidan was leaving to spend time with his parents in the interior for two weeks—that he’d be leaving Shepard in Vancouver with no means of escape during the holidays.

 Shepard said he never celebrated Christmas anyways and that it was no big deal that Kaidan wasn’t going to be around, but Kaidan had such an attachment to the holiday that he found it hard to believe Shepard. The holidays were a time for celebration—for spending time with friends and family, reminding them that they were cherished. Gifts and good food were secondary to the emotions of the holiday in Kaidan’s mind.

 He wished he could take Shepard with him. He probably could have, if they’d lived completely different lives.

 But as it was, he had to leave Shepard standing at a rainy bus stop, a chaste kiss the only goodbye he received before Shepard turned and trudged down the grimy streets he called home, his shoulders hunched and weariness in his steps.

XX

_[11:43] Shepard: Still snowing?_

_[11:44] Kaidan: Yep. Picture perfect Christmas._

_[11:44] Kaidan: Raining in Vancouver?_

_[11:45] Shepard: Yeah._

_[11:45] Shepard: -Image Sent-_

_[11:47] Kaidan: Wow. Is that you right now?_

_[11:48] Shepard: Yesterday. Too tired tonight. Does that ruin the illusion?_

_[11:49] Kaidan: A little. Still hot. We should skype soon or something. Tomorrow so I can wish you a proper Merry Christmas._

_[11:49] Shepard: That’d be nice._

_[11:50] Kaidan: Are you okay?_

_[11:53] Shepard: Just tired. Work is_

_[11:53] Shepard: I’m just tired. Don’t worry about it._

_[11:54] Kaidan: I miss you._

_[11:58] Shepard: -Image Sent-_

_[11:59] Kaidan: I’ll take that as a ‘I miss you, too’_

_[12:00] Kaidan: Merry Christmas!_

_[12:01] Kaidan: Sleep well, John._

_[12:02] Kaidan: Remember about skype tomorrow._

XX

 The orchard was covered in a thick blanket of snow, tiny footprints from squirrels and rabbits dotted above the mounds and between the trees, weaving odd patterns like a messy quilt. Kaidan leaned on the shovel as he stood in the driveway, watching the sunlight highlight the ice crystals, making them twinkle and sparkle.

 His mother had sent him out here to clear the driveway from another snowfall. He’d been given the keys to the snow blower, but Kaidan preferred to shovel, desperate to work off the turkey, Yorkshire puddings, Brussel sprouts, and Christmas cake. All of the extended family had gone home—to Vancouver, the Island, and one all the way to Ontario—leaving Kaidan with his mum and dad.

 He had one more day until he headed back himself.

 Maybe then he’d find out if Shepard was okay.

 He hadn’t texted or called him in two days. After their brief but exciting chat over skype which resulted in both almost falling asleep, Shepard had gone silent, only sending one text on Boxing Day followed by a picture of his ass the following day.

 And then… nothing.

 Not a peep.

 Kaidan tried not to overthink it. Shepard had a tendency to drop off the map—he’d told Kaidan that himself—but he couldn’t help but worry this time. He knew something was going on with ‘work’, and the fact that Shepard regularly roamed the streets of a neighborhood his father wouldn’t even patrol without backup was cause for concern.

 He didn’t want to think about the worst, but the image of Shepard being one of those guys stabbed in a back alley, bleeding to death, just wouldn’t leave his head. It niggled away at night or when he was alone, the images becoming more and more elaborate and horrifying the longer he thought about it.

 So he tried not to.

 Sighing, he finished off the corner of the driveway, shoving the snow into pre-existing piles along the edges before trudging back inside, nose and cheeks stinging as the warm air hit. Kicking off his boots and tossing his coat on to the rack, he wandered into the living room, pulling his phone out to check for a text he knew wouldn’t be there.

 “Finish the driveway?”

 Kaidan glanced up from his phone to see his father sitting on the couch, half-eaten reheated Christmas pudding sitting in a bowl on his lap. Kaidan nodded and slumped down in a chair next to him. He was watching a show on airport security.

 Of course.

 Kicking his feet out, he fiddled with the corners of his phone, trying to decide if he should send another text. He didn’t want to be the ‘needy boyfriend’ but…

 “Hey… Dad?”

 “Hm?”

_Make this subtle. Make him think you’re just curious for the sake of curiosity—not that you’ve got any emotional connection to this_.

 “On average, how many deaths would you say were caused by gang activity?”

 His father paused with a spoonful of pudding halfway to his mouth. Turning, he looked at Kaidan, brow quirked. “Why?”

Kaidan shrugged, trying to act casual. “I was just wondering. I mean, it seems to go in waves, right? When I was a kid you’d always be busy during certain years, and then there would be this… lull.”

 His father shoved the spoon in his mouth and chewed. He was making good progress on his semi-retirement gut.

 “Yeah, that usually happens when we arrest the main instigators—or they kill each other. Once we shut down one gang, though, a second just pops up. Takes a few years, but the power vacuum is filled and the cycle continues,” he explained, attention going back to the television.

 “But on average, how common are deaths related to gangs? Like, right now—would you expect to find someone from a gang dead?”

 “Probably… depends on the area. And the cause of death. Some of these guys just finish the job themselves with whatever they’re selling.”

  _Shit._

 “So… you could find a dead gang member going back to work tomorrow?”

 His father sighed and dropped his spoon into his empty bowl. Muting the television, he put the bowl on the table before sitting back on the couch with a satisfied grunt.

 “I might. Might not. Things have been quiet the last couple of years since we got rid of Eclipse. Now it’s just a few running around, generally keeping to themselves.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed again. “If you’re asking if we’ve had any reports of gang warfare, we haven’t. Not yet. But we know it’ll be coming again soon. No group stays quiet for too long.”

 Kaidan nodded and tried to swallow back the bile in his throat. Sliding his lock screen back, he pulled up a picture of Shepard. He was smiling over the rim of his beer bottle, his focus on something off to the side, the low light of the pub bringing out the dips and angles of his face.

 Gang warfare… Shepard caught up in it. The notion left Kaidan feeling ill.

 “How many gangs are there in Vancouver?” he found himself asking. He closed the screen and shoved his phone in his back pocket.

 “Lots, and varying in size and general makeup.”

 “In the Eastside?”

 His father snorted. “God, who knows how many… lots of little ones, some with power, some without.”

 “Any big ones?”

 His father paused. Kaidan avoided his gaze, instead pretending to be interested on what was happening on the TV.

 “Kaidan… are you in some kind of trouble?”

 Kaidan shook his head and slouched back into his chair, trying to look casual and relaxed despite feeling quite the contrary. “I’m just curious. You ask me about my studies so I thought I’d… I dunno, try and get involved with your life.”

 His father stared at him a moment longer, obviously trying to decide if he should push the subject further. Instead, he too slouched into the couch cushions and rested his head against his hand. “There are two main ones in the Eastside—Blood Pack and Omega.”

 Omega.

 Kaidan visualized Shepard’s tattoo on his hand—the bold and black Greek omega symbol sitting proudly on his weatherworn skin. Shepard was in the Omega gang… running drugs, buying weapons—getting stabbed. And probably a great deal more.

 And his father—the man sitting right across from him—was trying to stop Shepard. He’d dedicated his life to preventing Shepard and Jack and everyone else from ruining someone else’s life.

 Kaidan suddenly felt very guilty.

 “You okay, son?”

 Kaidan shook his head, grimacing as a spike of pain shot through his skull. “Migraine,” he said, rubbing his temple.

 “Go lie down—your mum and I will get dinner started.”

 Kaidan stood up and headed to his bedroom, stopping in the doorway when his father spoke again.

 “Kaidan… son… if you’re in any trouble, you know you can come to me, right? Anything at all—I’ll listen.”

 Kaidan knew his father worried about him. He always saw him as the little boy in the hospital gown, crying because the pain in his head wouldn’t stop, begging him to take him away from the hospital when they both knew it wasn’t possible. He cared about him an immense amount—almost to the point of stifling. And Kaidan had just given him more cause for concern.

 But he wasn’t the one in trouble…

 Turning around he pressed his hand to his eye, trying to stop the surge of throbbing. “I’m fine, Dad. Really, I am. How much trouble can a research assistant get into, anyway?”

 His father didn’t look convinced. “Go lie down.”

 Stumbling into the bathroom, Kaidan took a collection of pills before cocooning himself under the blankets in his room. His bed was large and empty, and Kaidan wondered when he’d become so used to Shepard being next to him that he was now uncomfortable sleeping alone.

 Pulling his phone out from his pants pocket, he rested it on the pillow next to him, waiting for any sign that Shepard wasn’t going to be the next body his father came back to find.

XX

It was almost midnight when Kaidan felt an insistent buzzing beneath his pillow. His eye throbbed along with the buzzing, and his stomach gurgled with hunger, Kaidan having slept through dinner. Fumbling around with his eyes squeezed shut he found his phone just as it stopped buzzing. Pulling it out, he was prepared to toss it across the room when he remembered why he’d kept it on his bed.

 Preparing for the pain, he opened his eyes and turned on the screen, holding back a groan as the light shot pins through his skull.

 One missed call: Shepard.

 Immediately he called back, desperate to hear his voice and know he was okay. He could handle the migraine if it meant he’d get to talk to Shepard.

 Shepard picked up on the second ring.

 “Hey.”

 Kaidan let out a sigh of relief as soon as he heard Shepard’s deep, smooth voice through the crackle of shitty cell service.

 “Hey, you…”

 “Did I wake you?” Shepard asked. Kaidan could hear him moving about, blankets shifting in the background. The thought of Shepard lying in his bed sent a spike of warmth through his gut. He was home—safe and sound and not hurt.

 “I’ve been sleeping all day,” he mumbled. Rolling on to his side, he closed his eyes, waiting for the throbbing to dissipate before continuing. “I have a migraine.”

 “Shit. I’ll call back—”

 “No,” Kaidan said quickly. “No, don’t… I want to talk to you. I’ve missed you.”

 Shepard sighed. “Yeah, sorry… I uh… shit… I got detained.”

 “Detained? By the police?” Kaidan asked.

 Not dead—just arrested by his father’s coworkers.

  _Fucking hell_. Everything seemed a lot less complicated when he was wrapped tight around Shepard, the two sharing deep kisses and gentle caresses. Now everything was coming to a head. He was dating a drug dealer and a gang banger—a criminal.

His father had always told him to act with integrity; his mother with his heart. What happened when those two things conflicted?

 Kaidan didn’t care. He just didn’t give a fuck right now. All that mattered was Shepard was alive. He was alive and talking to Kaidan, and Kaidan felt like he could finally breathe again. The rest could wait. He just wanted to talk to Shepard.

 “Yeah,” Shepard mumbled, “they did their monthly round-up and I got caught driving a known vehicle. They didn’t find anything on me but… yeah, they kept me in the precinct for almost a day. By the time I got out my phone was dead and my boss wanted to talk to me. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”

 “No, no, it’s fine… it’s… it’s just good to hear your voice,” Kaidan said, trying not to think too deeply about any of what Shepard had just said.

 There was silence on the other end, Shepard’s steady breathing the only indication he was still there. He shifted again, blankets rustling before he settled, his voice a bit clearer.

 “I miss you a lot, Kaidan.”

 He could hear the weariness in Shepard’s voice. He sounded like a man who had been beaten down one too many times, and wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.

 “I miss you, too… but I’ll be coming home tomorrow.”

 “What time?”

 “I’ll be home around seven, but probably won’t be _home_ home until eight-ish.” Pressing the side of his head into the pillow, he breathed hard through his nose, willing the pain to stop interfering with everything in his fucking life. “You still in lockdown?”

 “Yep.”

 “I’ll come by when I get home, then.”

 “No, you don’t have to do that, Kaidan.”

 “I want to,” he said. “Just… let me. Please?”

 Shepard sighed. There was a long pause before he mumbled a ‘sure’.

 Shepard was the opposite of selfish. Getting him to ask for something was like pulling teeth, but it was worth it when Kaidan knew Shepard was just as desperate to see him as he was.

 “I’ll bring food. What are you craving?” Kaidan asked.

 “Uh… poutine?”

 Kaidan chuckled, then immediately regretted it. “Good choice. Poutine it is.”

 There was another long silence. Kaidan’s medication was trying to coax him back to sleep, and Shepard’s steady breathing was helping.

 “Hey… Kaidan…” Shepard said quietly.

 “Hm?”

 “When my boss gives me the all clear, we should get out of Vancouver for a while.”

 “And go where?”

 “I dunno… somewhere not here. Somewhere clean and free… somewhere where I can see the sky…”

 Kaidan smiled. “How about the Caribbean?”

 “I don’t know if I can get across the border… got a record and shit.”

  _Right… of course._

 “Alberta, then. We can drive to the Rocky Mountains… stay in a little cabin up in the mountains. Just you and me.”

 “And the moose and bears.”

 “Yeah, and the moose and bears,” Kaidan said.

 “Sounds good… sounds _great_. Just…” he sighed, and Kaidan could tell he wanted to say something more. He didn’t.

 “Stay on the line a little longer?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard hummed. “Yeah, sure… you want me to sing a lullaby?”

 Kaidan chuckled. “Nah… just… stay with me for a little longer.”

 “Always.”

  Everything else could wait. Right now, Kaidan would just bury his head under the blankets and pretend everything was normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a big shout-out to my beta, Annaraven. And, once again, a big pimping-out of her fics. Check them out, everyone!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reunion, some reality checks, gift-exchanges, and some poutine gobbling. Enjoy this chapter because you never know what will happen next time...

Shepard had a bad feeling rooted deep in his gut—like someone had pricked him with the edge of a knife and was just waiting to dig it in. There had been a shift in the dynamics—a change in where he stood in Omega—and he wasn’t sure where it had come from.

 Someone was watching him.

 Someone was waiting for him to twist the wrong way so they could sink the blade in.

Sitting in the precinct, ass digging into the cold metal benches while a homeless drunk puked his guts out in the tiny public toilet, Shepard had bitten his cheek and tried not to scream as the walls closed in and reality bludgeoned him on the head repeatedly.

Something was terribly _wrong_. It went beyond Blood Pack and their guns, beyond the police and their constant dogging, and beyond the damp, grey skyline of Vancouver. It was in Shepard’s home, in his family—an insidious ‘what if’ that started when Shepard met Kaidan and showed him that there was a world outside the grime of the Eastside, and that his life didn’t begin and end with Omega.

 Shepard knew Aria felt it too. And she didn’t like it one bit.

 “I think Aria is fucking with me.”

 Jack looked up from her bowl of soup, chopsticks tangled in clear noodles. “Yeah?”

 Shepard nodded. Taking a big bite of his spring roll he chewed quickly and swallowed before continuing. “She had to know that car was on the list of suspected vehicles. She doesn’t fuck up something that minor—she’s a perfectionist.”

 Jack sat back in her chair, hand running over her freshly buzzed head. Fiddling with her napkin, she stared out the grimy window of the Vietnamese restaurant, tongue wiggling against her molars. Shepard could feel her knee bouncing underneath the table, brushing his every so often.

 Her fidgeting made Shepard nervous.

 “You know something?” he prompted.

 “Nah, I’m just trying to figure out why she’d be fucking with you,” she replied. “She’s not the type to play games, Shepard. You know that.”

 “Then she what, fucked up?” He snorted. “Not likely.”

 Aria was remarkably nonplussed when he’d come back from lock-up, one of her SUVs in the impound lot and Shepard’s burner confiscated. She’d told him it happened often enough and to not worry about it, but the way she kept her eyes on her papers and the clipped tone she took indicated to Shepard that she was pissed.

 About what, he couldn’t tell. But she’d never treated him with such… indifference before.

 “Might have something to do with you spending a lot of time in the rich bitch quarter of the city with a cop’s kid,” Jack suggested.

 She was staring blankly across at Shepard, giving him little comfort.

 He’d told Jack about Kaidan’s connections a few weeks after they became serious. She’d laughed at first, but once she realized how serious things had become she took a drastically different view. Jack accepted it but in a ‘not in my backyard’ sort of way. As long as he never brought Kaidan around, Jack could feign ignorance to the entire thing. But in a moment of blind stupidity he had brought Kaidan home, Jack met him, and was now on the line alongside Shepard should he fuck things up.

 He felt disgusted with himself that he’d dragged Jack, his most loyal friend—his _sister_ —into the mess he’d created with Kaidan. But there was no going back now; no pretending he’d never met Kaidan and grown to care about him, no pretending that Kaidan’s mere presence didn’t sooth Shepard more than anything else in his fucked up life.

 He couldn’t kick the habit. Kaidan was his addiction.

 “You didn’t tell her about him, did you?” Shepard asked, throat tight.

 “No,” Jack said. She sighed and slouched in her chair. “I fucking wanted to—you’re being a cunt about all of this, dragging me into it and all. Figured I had every good reason to rat you out.”

 “But you didn’t,” Shepard said.

 Jack sighed again. She avoided his gaze and continued to stare out the window, the flickering fluorescent lights making her look washed-out and tired. It was drizzling outside, Shepard’s shoulder cold as it rested against the poorly insulated window.

 “Yeah well… you’re like my brother. We gotta stick together. If we start fucking with each other then we’re both screwed,” Jack finally said. Grabbing her chopsticks she finished the last of her soup, acting like their little heart-to-heart hadn’t happened. Shepard was more than willing to do the same.

He didn’t feel much better about the Aria situation, but at least he knew Jack was rock-solid.

 But that left the question of who was keeping tabs on him…

 “Thanks,” he said, shoving his last spring roll into his mouth.

 “You should think about breaking up with the guy,” Jack said, “No ass is worth the fallout if Aria finds out.”

 Shepard agreed. He should have just broken it off as soon as it started. Kaidan wasn’t worth… no, Kaidan _was_ worth it all. It was Shepard who was the fuck up—the messed up kid Kaidan should have run from at the outset. Kaidan was brilliant and funny, successful and well-rounded. He was rich and educated and passionate about the world around him.

 He was everything that Shepard wasn’t.

 He felt like he was dragging Kaidan down; like he was lowering him to his level, covering him in the filth of the Eastside with its petty feuds and abuses. But when Shepard was with Kaidan those insecurities seemed to slip away, and all Shepard could do was stand in Kaidan’s orbit and catch his breath. He was the lone rock in the middle of a raging storm, offering Shepard someplace to hang on to until everything blew over.

 Shepard was a selfish fuck. He couldn’t give Kaidan up, even though he knew it was the best for Kaidan and Jack, and everyone else around him.

 “He’s got a pretty nice ass, though,” Shepard said as they collected their things. Dropping some bills down on to the table they walked out, ignoring the ‘thank you’ from the waitress as she counted her tip.

 “Yeah, I could tell by the disgusting grunting coming from your room,” Jack said, pulling a face.

 Strolling down the street they stopped in front of an apartment building—nondescript and a shit-hole like every other place on skid row. Opening the door for Jack, she rolled her eyes but went in first anyways, shaking off the water on her coat.

 “He’s coming over tonight, by the way.”

_Might be the last time too, given the circumstances. Fuck what Aria says—I’ll leave the Eastside whenever I fucking want. Maybe root out her little snitch on the way over._

 “Great. I won’t be there,” Jack said, pressing the up button of the elevator.

 “Why? You got a date?” he asked, rocking back on his heels.

 “More like a quick fuck. Dude’s a tattoo artist. I figure I fuck him good, make nice with him, and I’ll get a few free tattoos before he figures out I’m just using him,” Jack explained, entering the elevator.

 “You’ve got room for another tattoo?”

 Jack had a tendency to wander the apartment topless in the summer, and Shepard was fairly certain she had no free room on her body for another one.

 “I’ve got some places,” she said, looking down her torso.

 The elevator dinged and they got off, Shepard brushing shoulders with Jack as they wandered down the narrow hallway with the peeling wallpaper, stopping in front of the room number they’d gotten from a ‘friend’ who was a cheap drunk and a blabbermouth.

 “How do you want to do this?” Shepard asked, his fist poised above the door.

 “Oh I think you know how we’re going to do this,” Jack said, voice a low purr.

_Looks like I’m on dog-sniffer duty…_

 Knocking three times, Shepard stood back as the door swung open, revealing the face of a young man who hadn’t even bothered to remove the belt from around his arm. He blanched when he saw them, the high rushing out of him like a candle flame in the wind.

 “Hey,” Jack said, a huge feral grin spreading out across her face. “Where the fuck is our money?”

XX

 There was a knock at the door.

 Shepard dropped the television remote and stood, grabbing his knife as he did so. Shoving the blade in the back of his pants, he kept his grip on the handle and approached the door like a man ready to fight. He’d had his fair share of drunken neighbors, one night stands and on one occasion, a cop, all come to his door looking for a fight.

 He didn’t take anything for granted—especially when he wasn’t expecting anyone.

 But upon throwing the door open he was surprised to find Kaidan standing there, a bag of food in one hand and a case of beer in the other.

 “I wasn’t expecting you to actually _come_ here,” Shepard said, exhaling the breath he’d been holding. “I thought you’d call and I’d meet you at the bus stop.”

 He tossed his knife down on top of his boots and stepped out of the way, letting Kaidan inside. Giving the hallway a quick scan, he shut the door and locked it.

 “I can find your apartment, John. Didn’t think you needed to pick me up from the bus stop,” Kaidan replied. He passed Shepard the food and beer before kicking his shoes and jacket off.

 He looked tired and a little hung-over, eyes slightly cloudy and hair not as well-kept as it usually was.

 “You’ve still got a migraine,” Shepard said, following Kaidan into the kitchen. Dumping everything onto the counter he grabbed Kaidan’s belt and tugged him forward. Cupping his cheek, he ran his hand up and through his hair, petting his temple gently.

 Kaidan hummed and closed his eyes, leaning into Shepard’s embrace. He smelled familiar and comforting.

 He smelled like—

  _No._

 “You should have stayed home,” Shepard mumbled.

 Kaidan furrowed his brows and made a displeased noise in the back of his throat. “I’m fine, John. Just a bit tired. And heavily medicated.”

He moved in for a slow kiss, one Kaidan returned with lazy enthusiasm. The press of Kaidan’s lips against his own released the tension built-up in the back of his skull, and Shepard felt like he could breathe a little easier with Kaidan next to him.

 “You sure?” he asked as they broke apart.

 Kaidan opened his eyes and nodded. “I needed to see you.”

  _That makes two of us._

 Pulling Kaidan into a hug, Shepard let himself relax as Kaidan molded against him perfectly like he was made to fit. The tips of his ears were cold, and Shepard kissed one gently, Kaidan shivering.

 “I missed you,” Kaidan said, voice muffled against Shepard’s shoulder. Lifting his head, his eyes were open now, whiskey brown clouded with a druggy haze. “Christmas was dull without you there.”

 Shepard smirked. “Yeah? Getting tired of a life of sweater vests and academic conversations over expensive wines and cheeses?”

 Kaidan snorted and went back to hugging Shepard, head resting on his shoulder, breath tickling the side of Shepard’s neck. Shepard’s stomach grumbled slightly at the sight of boxed take-away on the counter, but Kaidan hugging him was enough to keep him where he was.

 “My grandmother kept talking about her neighbors, my uncles were obsessed about housing prices in Vancouver and wouldn’t shut up about it, and my mother thought it’d be a good time to try and convince me I should think about moving overseas for a year to broaden my horizons. And my father was…”

 He trailed off. Shepard didn’t push him to continue, but he could feel something eating away at Kaidan. Probably guilt.

 Just one more reason Kaidan was better off without him.

 “How was the food?” he asked, changing the topic.

 Kaidan hummed and pulled away. “Delicious. I’m going to need to live at the gym for the next week to work it all off.” He patted his stomach and Shepard couldn’t help but reach out and rub it gently, smiling as Kaidan purposely puffed his gut out.

 Sitting down at the small table shoved in the corner of the kitchen, Kaidan closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

 “And Christmas wasn’t that bad,” he continued, voice muffled by his hand,. “It’d just have been better with you, you know?”

 Shepard smiled tightly. “I’d probably have given your grandma a heart attack if you brought me home to meet her.”

 He wasn’t kidding.

 “Not that I’d wish a heart attack on my gran, but uh… might have added some excitement to an otherwise slow couple of weeks,” Kaidan mumbled.

Pulling out the take-away containers, Shepard opened one up to see a large mass of potato, cheese curds, and gravy, his stomach growling yet again at the sight. Grabbing one of the bottles of beer, he twisted off the cap and nudged it into Kaidan’s free hand, Kaidan taking it without opening his eyes. He smiled and mumbled a thank you before taking a long drink.

 Shepard admired the bob of Kaidan’s Adam’s apple. It had been two weeks of no-sex—again—and Shepard was chomping at the bit. But Kaidan was clearly in rough shape, and Shepard didn’t want to joggle anything further because he couldn’t wait to shove his face in Kaidan’s ass.

 Instead he busied himself with poutine.

 And something else in the bag.

 “What’s this?” Shepard asked, pulling out a small wrapped box with a bow on it.

 Kaidan opened his eyes and smiled. “Present for you.”

 Shepard stared down at the carefully wrapped gift, fingertips touching the edges of the bow—bright and shiny and red. Shepard hadn’t lived an entirely pitiful existence where he’d never received a gift before, but the small gesture from Kaidan was enough to give him pause. He didn’t think they were at that level yet.

 “I thought we agreed not to get each other anything,” he said.

 Kaidan was still smiling. “I saw it and couldn’t resist. Indulge me and open it?”

 Shepard nodded, unsure of how to proceed. He didn’t want to be Kaidan’s charity case, but then again, when had he ever been? Kaidan had respected Shepard’s feelings on money and gifts, never offering to pay unless those were the rules set beforehand.

 “Open it,” Kaidan prompted.

 Shepard carefully took the bow off and tore the paper to reveal a brown box. Lifting the lid he peered down at a silver Zippo lighter.

 “I passed this speciality smoke shop in the airport,” Kaidan explained. “It’s engraved on the bottom.”

 Shepard picked it up and turned it over. On the bottom it simply read ‘Shepard’ in plain script.

 It was perfect. Sleek and simple and so him.

 “Thanks, K…” Shepard mumbled, smiling. Flipping the top open he struck the ignition, a healthy flame shooting up. Flipping the cap back down the flame was extinguished with a satisfying click of metal against metal.

 Kaidan stood and Shepard dragged him in for a tight hug and a kiss against his temple.

 “Hope you like it,” Kaidan said.

 “Love it,” he replied, and kissed his temple again before pulling away. “Best Christmas present ever.”

 Kaidan grinned and sat back down. Shepard went back to getting the food ready, tossing the poutine into the microwave for a minute to re-heat it. Once complete, Shepard sat down across from Kaidan, their knees rubbing under the table as they ate their greasy dinner, Shepard mulling over his gift.

 He could feel it in his back pocket, pressing against him like it had always been there. Shepard had always just bought whatever cheap lighter was on the counter of the 7-11, paying no mind to the colour or design so long as it worked. But the Zippo meant something. Kaidan had bought it with him in mind and no one else, and had it engraved with _his_ name.

 It was Shepard’s and no one else’s. It was a unique, personal accessory that showed some individuality in a place where people went to be forgotten.

 Shepard was so consumed by thinking about what the lighter meant that he completely missed Kaidan’s sudden change in demeanour until Kaidan was clearing his throat, brows furrowed as he sat hunched over his half-eaten dinner.

 “You okay?” Shepard asked, nudging their knees together.

 Kaidan didn’t say anything, gaze flicking down to his fork as he gently stabbed a French fry.

 “Can I uh… ask you a question?” he finally asked, lifting his eyes to look at Shepard.

 Shepard nodded and swallowed the brick in his throat. “What’s up?”

 “I’ve been thinking about something you said and… well, I think I want to know more details. I mean, it’s your life but I just… I dunno, I think it’s important.”

 Shepard went over everything he could have possibly said in the last week, coming up with nothing beyond his embarrassing, slightly drunk plea to run away from Vancouver again.

 “Yeah… and?”

 “Last night you uh… you said you had a record. And I think I deserve to know what you were in for…”

 Shepard fiddled with his fork, thumb pressing into the edge of the metal. Of course Kaidan would pick up on that. He was a cop’s son—he knew ‘I have a record’ really means ‘I got caught and spent time in an orange jumpsuit’. A part of him didn’t want to tell Kaidan. He didn’t want him to know this stupid shit from his past—that he really was the piece of shit that Shepard had warned him about. Kaidan was a good guy from an upstanding family. He shouldn’t be dating a _criminal_.

 But Kaidan wasn’t coming at him—wasn’t accusing him of anything or judging him. He was just asking; gently prodding Shepard to open up about something that, in the end, he deserved to know.

 Taking a deep drink of his beer, he sat back in his chair and locked eyes with Kaidan. He had to tell the truth. He thought he could live with the consequences.

 “I was in for assault four years ago,” he said.

 Kaidan didn’t say anything for a long time. Shepard could see him thinking—the little gears working away behind his cloudy gaze. Finally he nodded and took a sip of his drink.

 “How long?” he asked.

 “Six months. It was the minimum penalty for what I’d done.”

 “And what had you done?”

 Shepard sighed and kicked his foot out, trying to get comfortable during an otherwise entirely uncomfortable situation.

 “Some guy—another drug runner for a rival gang—decided to fuck with me and Jack. He… got aggressive with Jack and hit her pretty hard. And I’m talking _hard_ —he knocked one of her teeth out. Jack isn’t a wilting flower but that was… that was fucked up. So I retaliated. Ended up sending the guy to the hospital with a broken arm, bruised ribs, a broken jaw, and a concussion… He reported me to the police, my boss couldn’t just pay my way out of it, so… I served six months in a medium security prison.”

 Kaidan nodded slowly. Shepard could see his jaw was clenched, his eyebrows still pressed together as he thought over what Shepard had said. He wasn’t sure what else he could say—wasn’t really certain there was anything he could say that would make what he did okay.

 Wasn’t certain it was okay in the first place.

 He’d had years to come to terms with his actions and the consequences, but Kaidan hadn’t. Kaidan who was, for all his virtues, deeply naïve about a lot of Shepard’s life.

 Shepard let him chew on it. He didn’t say anything—didn’t really do much—and simply waited.

 Finally Kaidan spoke, his words carefully chosen.

 “I… I think I see where you’re coming from. That… that loss of control you must have felt when you saw your friend hurt… I uh… I can relate.”

 Kaidan locked eyes with Shepard, and Shepard didn’t see any of the judgement—or worse, fear—that he’d expected. Instead he saw understanding.

 “You’re not concerned?” he asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

 Kaidan shook his head and then winced. Rubbing his eye he sat forward, elbows on the table and head ducked as he worked through the pain. Sitting back up with a slow exhale, he cleared his throat and elaborated.

 “Remember me telling you about a guy named Vyrnnus?”

 Shepard nodded.

 “It was something similar. I knew this girl—her name was Rahna and… I guess you could say we were sort of dating. We’d known each other since junior high and had always been close. She was one of those girls who just… she just drew you in, you know? Her kindness and her altruism was… it was admirable. You wanted to be near her. And, for some reason, she wanted to be near me.

 “But there was this asshole named Vyrnnus. He messed with you just to see you squirm—the kind of guy who got satisfaction from other people’s pain. I don’t know what was going on in his life, but he messed with us almost constantly. It was just little things most of the time, but one day he… he broke Rahna’s arm. It was an accident but it was because of his own stupidity and I—I lost it. I just couldn’t stand seeing Rahna in that sort of pain. So… I hit him. And kept hitting him until someone found a teacher and they pulled me off him.”

 He sighed and leaned forward again, head ducked. “There wasn’t any major fallout at school—I had a clean record and it happened after school, but… it stuck with me for a while. The fact that I had that in me, you know? That I could snap and hurt someone like that, it… it stays with you.” He lifted his head. “So… yeah, I get what you were going through.”

  _But you stopped that impulse. I do it every day…_

 “Sorry about Rahna… but I’m glad you powered through it,” Shepard said, not really sure what else to say.

 Kaidan shrugged. “Rahna didn’t want to talk to me after it, but it was just young love anyway. Besides—I’ve got you now.”

 He shot Shepard a small, hesitant smile, one Shepard returned.

 “You know, it’s funny,” Kaidan said, strength returning to his voice, “my dad always went on about how different he was compared to the guys he picked up. He always says that we—and by ‘we’ I mean rich people—know how to curb our animal instincts. That we’re not just brutes, you know? And yet his son went and beat the shit out of a guy and still doesn’t feel bad for doing it… he just doesn’t like to see shades of grey, I guess. He doesn’t like to be reminded that no one is ‘better’ than anyone else…”

 “He’s right.”

 Kaidan looked at Shepard, brows rising slightly. “What?”

 “Don’t kid yourself, Kaidan. It’s not shades of grey down here—black and white is a reality that your dad has got to deal with every day. It’s a piece of shit living, and it turns people into pieces of shit in turn. You’ve only seen the clean, sterilized parts—you’ve only seen what I want you to see. But don’t kid yourself… we’re all just varying degrees of fuck-ups…”

 Kaidan’s mouth fell open slightly. “You don’t honestly think that, do you?”

 Shepard shrugged and stood. Grabbing his plate, he dropped it on to the counter and busied himself with cleaning up. Kaidan was too fucking blinded by whatever he saw in Shepard that he couldn’t see what was really going on—couldn’t see Shepard for what he knew he was.  Shepard’s world was brutal and cold and unflinching—it wasn’t some romantic West Side Story bullshit Kaidan seemed to think it was, and Shepard needed to remind him of that or he’d risk losing _himself_ in that illusion—the illusion that he could be something more than what he was. 

 “John, do you honestly think you’re a fuck-up?”

 Shepard breathed hard through his nose and clenched his jaw. Staring down at the counter he flicked the bottle cap from his beer, watching it bounce off the back wall.

 “I really don’t want to get into this philosophical bullshit tonight,” he finally said. The shit with Aria, combined with Kaidan’s dawning realization that his relationship with Shepard was going to have serious consequences with his father, was just too much for Shepard to deal with.

 He just wanted some peace of mind for one fucking night.

 “Can we just hang out and… just be?” he asked.

 Kaidan seemed like he was going to say something but instead he just nodded. “Yeah, sure… the drugs are wearing off anyways.”

 Shepard cleaned up the rest of the food and grabbed two more beers. Leading Kaidan into his bedroom, he put the bottles on the side table before grabbing a pair of sweats and one of his favourite well-worn t-shirts. Tossing them to Kaidan he undressed and put on a pair of boxers. Kaidan was a little slower to undress and re-dress, giving Shepard time to calm down enough to enjoy the evening for what it was and not what it could have become.

 Grabbing his laptop from his desk, he sat on the edge of the bed and searched through his torrents while Kaidan tried to be subtle about smelling Shepard’s shirt.

 “Smells weird?” he asked idly.

 Kaidan chuckled. “Smells good. Smells like you.”

 “Keep it then.”

 Kaidan sat down beside Shepard and leaned against him slightly. “Really?”

 Shepard nodded and pulled up a season of Battlestar Galactica. Grunt had told him to download it, and now was as good a time as any to start it.

 “I’ve worn it so many times that it’s kind of thin,” he warned.

 “Probably why it’s so soft,” Kaidan said. He smelled the collar again, a silly little smile on his lips. “Thanks.”

 Shepard couldn’t help himself and stole a kiss.

 Crawling under the covers they propped the pillows up against the wall, Kaidan leaning back and to the side, head resting on Shepard’s shoulder. Balancing the laptop on his lap, Shepard turned off the light and loaded up the first episode, Kaidan pressed up against his side.

  “Ready for space adventures?” he asked, kissing Kaidan’s forehead.

 A siren went off and there was some yelling in the alleyway underneath Shepard’s window, but the ills of the Eastside were drowned out by Kaidan’s deep, smooth voice.

 “Ready for anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a BIG, MASSIVE, GIGANTIC thank you to everyone who is reading, kudosed, left a comment, and bookmarked! You're all stellar people, and your enthusiasm keeps me going and makes me excited to write more! 
> 
> Shoutout to Annaraven for once again going through this chapter and picking out every single time I wrote 'on to' instead of 'onto'. One day I'll get it right!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit intense this chapter re: violence. Just a heads-up!

 “So how’s Liara doing?”

 Kaidan paused, sandwich mid-way to his mouth. His father was sitting across from him, one hand wrapped around his phone as he scrolled through the screen, the other loosely holding a scrunched up napkin. He’d spent most of their lunch looking at his phone, brows furrowed, tension in his shoulders that hadn’t gone away the entire time.

 His father had invited him out for a quick lunch, the only time they both had to sit down and chat. Only his father seemed more interested in work than his own son, a fact that would have pissed Kaidan off a few months ago.

 But today he was perfectly fine not talking about his life with his father. Everything about his existence had become linked to Shepard in some way, the two virtually inseparable. Kaidan had been going to stay over at Shepard’s more and more, his own apartment simply a place he went to grab more clothes and copy some notes he needed for his lab reports. When he wasn’t at university acting as Miranda’s ‘Helper’ he was with Shepard, the two binge-watching pirated television series and fucking until Shepard’s shoulders slouched and his smile became less forced.

 His essential ‘house arrest’ was beginning to frustrate Shepard, so much so that Kaidan could feel it any time they hugged or kissed or spoke. Shepard wanted to escape—desperately so—and talked non-stop of the places they would go and the adventures they’d have as soon as he could leave. But there was something else going on—some added tension with Shepard that he refused to tell Kaidan about. It was with his job, that much Kaidan knew, but beyond that…

It was becoming harder and harder for Kaidan to separate Shepard from his work, and Kaidan suspected it was becoming harder for Shepard as well. He was fairly certain that _he_ was part of Shepard’s problem; that their relationship was putting a strain on Shepard for reasons he refused to divulge. And sitting here, with his father, Kaidan was beginning to feel the strain too.

 Kaidan felt like he was living a double-life: the doctorate student with the perfect grades, the perfect life, and the perfect future, versus the passion-sick Romeo—the one who ignored all the lessons and morals his parents had taught him because he’d begun to fall for a man who was everything his father hated. A man who wanted to believe it was all justified and nothing was wrong, when their relationship was something he hid; something he couldn’t share.

Or maybe Kaidan was just being dramatic. He had a propensity for it.

 “She’s fine,” he said. Shoving the last of his meal into his mouth, he sat back and sipped his water, ice cubes pressing up against his teeth uncomfortably. “Really busy with school, but she’s having fun.”

 “That’s good,” his dad mumbled distractedly. Clipping his mobile back onto his belt, he smiled across at Kaidan. “She’s always been a good egg.”

 “Yeah, she has…”

 “And Ashley?”

 “Also good,” Kaidan replied.

_Where is he going with this?_

 “Why are you asking?” Kaidan asked, not trusting his father to just come out with it.

 “Well, you know… your mother and I haven’t heard about them in a while. We were just curious as to how they were.”

 “They’re fine, Dad. Just busy with the term. They don’t have time for lunch most of the time.”

 “And neither do you, it seems.” His father finished off the last of his pop and leaned forward on the table, bushy mustache twisted down in a frown. “You seem… distant, lately.”

 Kaidan sighed and looked through the window, avoiding his father’s gaze. He _had_ been absent, the calls to his mother and the impromptu visits a thing of the past, but he didn’t like that others had noticed. Worse yet—they were now beginning to worry.

 “I’ve been busy with school,” he said. It was partly truth. Swallowing down the guilt he felt about lying to his father, he continued. “You knew going into my doctorate I’d be absent a lot.”

 “You were distant at Christmas, too,” his father mumbled. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face. “All I ask is that you give your mum a call more often. She’s the one who worries.”

_It’s you who worries. You worry I’m sick again; that I’m not pushing myself to be the best; that I’m not following the same path you took when you were my age._

 “Yeah, I can do that,” he said. “I’ve got a couple days off in March for Easter break. Maybe we can have dinner or something?”

 His father smiled and sat back. “Your mother will be pleased. She’s been talking about having everyone over for ham.”

 “Yeah, for sure. Sounds great…” Kaidan resisted the urge to pull out his phone when it buzzed in his back pocket.

 He had been distant. Overtly so. And all because of a guy—a guy he didn’t even see fit to tell his father about. When had shit become so fucking complicated?

 “Hey, Dad…”

 His father looked away from the waitress he was trying to flag down for the bill. “Yes?”

 He could tell him right now. Give him vague details, of course, but still tell him he’d met a guy—a person he was beginning to care for an awful lot. His father had always been accepting of his relationships—man or woman—and he was certain he’d only voice his concern about the possibility of grandchildren a few times if he showed up with a boyfriend, but…

 Shepard was a criminal. He was on the very streets his father swore to protect. A guy whose work entailed beating men up until they were sent to the hospital, and dealing drugs that killed countless numbers of innocent people. Kaidan wanted to believe that Shepard was only the man he saw in his bedroom—the one who laughed freely and told Kaidan about his hopes and dreams, his fears and his pride. The man who told Kaidan he was more than his illness and his disabilities, and who made him feel like he was finally free. Free from his responsibilities and the perfect, respectable Mr. Dependable that everyone saw him as.

 It would be so easy…

 “How’s work been?” he ended up asking.

 He’d bring it up later…

“Busy,” his father said. Asking the waitress for the bill, he turned back to Kaidan. “Some of the gangs in the Eastside are starting to get uppity. They think we’ve no idea what they’re doing which just makes it easier for us to track them.”

 “Uppity how?” he asked, and a cold shiver shot down his spine.

 “Usual things—scuffles for turf, smuggling of illegal firearms. But we’ll get most of them locked up before they can cause too much harm; don’t worry.”

 Kaidan smiled tightly and busied himself with his napkin.

Leaving the restaurant, Kaidan zipped up his coat as a blast of seawater-laced wind hit him. It was mid-January and still cold. Kaidan was sick of it.

 “You need a ride home?” his father asked as they hustled over to his parked cruiser.

 Kaidan gave the car a once-over. It was tempting, but…

 “I think I’m gonna walk. I’ve got some errands to do downtown anyways,” he said.

 His father nodded and gave him a rough pat on the arm. “Let’s do this again soon, eh?”

 Kaidan smiled. “For sure. And I’ll make sure to give Mum a call soon.”

 “Do that. Otherwise she’ll never stop pestering me.” Walking around the car, he was halfway in when he poked his head over the top, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Don’t be a stranger, eh? You may be an adult but you’re still our kid—it’s our job as parents to worry about you.”

 “Yeah, don’t worry—no more drifting.”

 He watched his father drive away with a cold feeling in his gut. He felt like he’d just spent their entire visit lying to his father about his life, his state of mind— _everything_. Sighing, he hurried down the street, shoulders hunched as a way to brace against the wind. Slipping into a Starbucks, he pulled out his phone and checked his messages, making sure there was nothing pressing like a text from Miranda telling him the lab had blown up, before calling Shepard.

 The one person who made Kaidan’s troubles fade away yet caused most of them in the first place.

 Shepard picked up on the fourth ring, his greeting a grunt.

 “Bad time?” Kaidan asked, perusing the collection of cups for sale as a way to look like he was a customer.

 “No. Just got out of a… business transaction with a fucking cunt,” Shepard said. He sounded mildly annoyed. “What’s up?”

 “I just got out from a lunch with my dad,” he said.

 Shepard sighed. “Bad I take it?”

 “Nah, it was… alright. He’s just… fuck, I don’t know.”

 “Must be shitty if you’re swearing,” Shepard said. Kaidan could hear an engine starting.

“You done with work for the day? Have time to meet up?”

 “You need some stress relief?” Shepard asked. Kaidan could hear the grin.

 He covered his smile with a cough and picked up a packet of flavour crystals for water. “Have something in mind?”

 “Actually… I do. Meet me at my apartment with your gym kit; we’ll go from there.”

XX

 When Shepard had asked if Kaidan needed stress relief, he hadn’t pictured this.

 But damn if it wasn’t working.

 Holding on to the punching bag, Kaidan braced himself against it as Shepard swung hit after hit against the beat-up leather. His hands ached from his own battery of the bag, but it was a small price to pay to work his frustrations out on something that couldn’t hit back. He knew he was going to pay for it in the morning, his work-outs usually including a little less hitting and a little more lifting, but again…

 Totally worth it.

 Especially with Shepard, sweating and grunting in a tank top in front of him as he laid waste to the bag. He hit like a man who learned to inflict the most amount of damage with the least amount of effort, his entire body shaking through the swing like a truck hitting a concrete slab. He kept his eyes locked on to the bag in front of him, his hits well placed and steady despite the sweat dripping down his forehead and across his shoulders.

 “You’re gonna blister your hands if you keep at it,” Kaidan said, grunting as the bag shifted in his arms.

 “I’m good,” Shepard said between heavy breaths.

 He relented, however, and stepped back, rolling his shoulders back and forward, neck swinging from side to side.

_God, he looks good enough to eat._

“So your dad is pissed you’re studying cancer shit and not becoming a cop?” Shepard asked as they grabbed their water bottles. Chugging half of it on one go, he brushed the back of his hand against his mouth. “I know I’m biased but being a cop sounds like a fucking useless job.”

 “It’s not useless, really… but it’s… kinda fruitless,” Kaidan said. He’d been telling Shepard all about his family and his relationship with his parents during their work-out together, Kaidan taking most of his frustrations out on the gym equipment. Shepard had listened dutifully as Kaidan described his guilt over being so absent, and his annoyance at his dad’s constant _hovering_ , and never once told Kaidan his family issues paled in comparison to his—something Kaidan _knew_ he was thinking.

 “And he’s not upset anymore,” he continued. Brushing a hand over his forehead, he sighed. “He was when I first went into it, but he gets it now—he knows why it’s important to me. But I can’t help but feel he’s… disappointed, sometimes, that I’m not following in his footsteps. Like I’m… drifting, you know?”

 Shepard nodded and took another drink of his water. Grabbing their things they strode over to the benches, Shepard side-stepping a portly gentleman heading to the bag. The gym was a small one close to the Eastside, most of its members people who lived in the area and needed a place to train just like everyone else. Shepard had assured him it was clean and had good equipment, and other than the slightly intimidating looks from a few of the guys near the weights, it wasn’t as bad as Kaidan had feared.

 Shepard had a way of clearing space in the Eastside, something that should have worried Kaidan. He was part of a powerful gang, his mere presence enough to get people to fuck off or look the other way.

 Sitting down beside Shepard, he leaned his head against the cement wall, enjoying the cool feeling of the stone against his tired muscles. Shepard leaned forward, elbows on his knees, a brooding expression on his face.

 “Sounds like your dad is just looking out for you. It’s a parent’s job to worry, isn’t it?” he said.

 Kaidan sighed. “You sound like my dad. But… yeah. Still, when it gets stifling it’s… frustrating. How do you convince your parents you’re an adult, capable of make decisions and living with the consequences _and_ the triumphs **?** ”

 “Your guess is as good as mine,” Shepard mumbled. Sitting back, he rolled his head to the side to look at Kaidan. “Just be thankful you’ve got someone looking out for you—even if he is a cop.”

 Kaidan chuckled and nudged Shepard with his elbow. “He’s not a bad guy. He’s actually a pretty accepting, understanding guy. I think you’d just need to meet him.”

 Shepard lost his small smile then. Ducking his head, he grabbed his water and busied himself with it, drinking long and deep. Kaidan went back to staring at the wall, ignoring the sense of guilt that gnawed in his gut once more.

_You’ll never get to bring him home, Alenko. Get used to it._

 “You want to get out of here?” Shepard asked. He unwrapped his hands, white tape revealing pink knuckles and his Omega tattoo.

 Nodding, Kaidan stood and followed Shepard back into the change rooms. Grabbing their shower gear, they went into separate stalls despite Kaidan’s desire to rub up against Shepard when he was all wet and pliable after an intense work-out.

 Once finished they dressed slowly, and Kaidan noticed Shepard’s uneasy expression returning the closer they got to finishing. He’d been silent most of the time, listening to Kaidan but not offering up his own frustrations in return. But Kaidan knew—he could catch Shepard’s tells now. The slight downturn of his lips, the clench of his jaw, brows furrowing in a brooding expression—the way he’d look at all doorways as if he were expecting someone to come in and attack.

 And the sadness in his eyes. A hurt that he masked with anger.

 Kaidan had no idea what was really going on and was afraid to ask lest he get wrapped up in something he couldn’t handle.

 “Hey… are you working tonight?” he asked, gently nudging Shepard as they shoved their kit back into their duffle bags. He had a lot of school work to get through before the end of the week, but he couldn’t leave Shepard like this. He just wanted to make him feel a little better and return the favour. 

“Nah—I did all the shit I had to do this morning. My boss set me up to meet with a new client who just moved into the area. Some rig-pig in Alberta who decided to move here to show off how much money he has. The guy was wearing a goddamn Hawaiian shirt and was mixing martinis like he was some fucking James Bond reject villain. And he was already fucked up on cocaine, yelling about how he was having the ‘most bomb’ party and had ‘elite’ friends coming over to—and I quote—‘party like rock stars’. I can’t handle those stupid shits and my boss fucking knows that. She keeps sending me on shit she knows I’ll hate because she’s just—”

 Shepard cut himself off. Clenching his jaw, he breathed hard through his nose and zipped his bag up forcefully.

 That was more than he’d said in the last hour.

 Standing up straight, he turned to Kaidan. “I’m not busy.”

 “Uh… great. Did you want to go to Palaven? I’ll buy.”

 Shepard hesitated a moment, but eventually nodded on his way past Kaidan and out of the change room. “Sounds good,” he said over his shoulder.

 They walked back to Shepard’s apartment, enjoying the sun that had decided to make an appearance. Shepard was quiet once again and Kaidan gave him his space, already working through his own stuff. He noted the look of apprehension some of the people on the street had as Shepard walked past, and couldn’t help but wonder if it was his appearance or their dealings with Shepard’s gang that made them so wary.

 Once inside Shepard’s apartment Kaidan noticed how tired Shepard looked. There were bags under his eyes and his baby blues were hazy with exhaustion. Glancing at his watch, Kaidan noted it was still late-afternoon—a bit too early for a beer, if he was being honest with himself.

 “Let me just use the toilet then we can go?” Shepard asked, kicking his gym bag into the corner.

 “Sure.”

 Kaidan watched him go before taking his shoes off. Heading into his bedroom, he sat down on the edge and shrugged his coat off, letting it drop on to the floor. Collapsing back on the mattress, he grunted as the hard foam slammed against his back.

 He wondered briefly if Shepard would let him buy him a new mattress—a bigger, more comfortable one.

 He could hear the toilet flush from across the hall, and soon Shepard’s footsteps followed—loud and heavy, and probably a major annoyance to those living below.

 “Kaidan?”

 Kaidan sat up to see Shepard standing in the doorway, shoulder pressed against the frame.

 “You ready?” Shepard asked. He tried to suppress a yawn.

 “Feeling kinda beat,” he said.

 Shepard wandered into the bedroom and sat down beside Kaidan. His jacket was still on, black leather creaking under his movements, and he smelled like smoke and Old Spice. He leaned forward and ran his hands over his face, the yawn that he’d suppressed earlier breaking through.

 “You look tired, too,” Kaidan mumbled, rubbing his back.

 Shepard sat up abruptly and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah… I worked all night at the club. Extra security… my boss is getting paranoid.”

  _“Usual things—scuffles for turf, smuggling of illegal firearms. But we’ll get most of them locked up before they can cause too much harm; don’t worry.”_

 Standing up Kaidan began to strip, Shepard watching with a curious (and eager) eye. Pulling off his boxer-briefs he stood in front of Shepard completely naked, and kicked his door closed in case Jack decided to make an entrance. Not saying anything, he tugged Shepard upward, getting him to stand.

 He began undressing him then. He started with his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the ground, buckles clacking against the hardwood floor. Running his hands along his shoulders, Kaidan bunched the soft fabric of his shirt as he felt the muscles flex under his touch. Moving his hands further down, he grabbed the hem of Shepard’s shirt and pulled it up and off, Shepard lifting his arms and dropping them back down as soon as Kaidan had tossed it on to the floor with everything else.

 Shepard’s eyes were closed, breath warm against Kaidan’s cheek as he undid his belt and zipper. Pulling his jeans and underpants down halfway, Shepard did the rest of the work and kicked them off, followed by toeing his socks off. His eyes were still closed, and he was half-hugging Kaidan, breath warm and steady against his shoulder.

 “If you’re looking for sex I think I can get it up if you want to do the rest of the work,” Shepard mumbled, lips pressed against Kaidan’s neck.

 Kaidan chuckled and guided Shepard back to the bed. Collapsing on the hard mattress, Shepard stretched his arms above his head, long legs creeping down to the end of the mattress. Kaidan would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted by the sight before him, but the exhaustion in Shepard’s mannerisms told him he needed sleep—not sex.

 Climbing into bed with him and pulling the covers up, Kaidan dragged him in close, Shepard’s head tucked underneath his chin.

 “Hey… Kaidan,” Shepard mumbled, voice slurry with sleep.

 “Yeah?”

 “I’m not… causing issues with you and your dad am I?”

 “No… he’s just… it’ll work out. Don’t worry.”

 Kaidan would worry about his father and Shepard, and everything wrapped up in it. Shepard deserved that little bit of ignorance.

XX

 Shepard and Garrus were doing a crossword puzzle.

 Kaidan never would have thought Shepard would be one to even entertain the idea of doing a word puzzle and yet here he was, hunched over an old newspaper with a pen in his grasp and a glass of beer beside him, his knee bouncing against Kaidan’s as he mulled over a question.

 “Seven letters down, begins with E. The clue is: General term for the type of horse ridden by equestrians Charlotte Dujardin, William Fox-Pitt, and Carl Hester.”

 Garrus pursed his lips, hands braced on the top of the bar. They were the only patrons save for a lone man sitting in the back of the bar, leaving Garrus with a lot of free time. He’d kept their glasses full and made Shepard smile, and Kaidan honestly couldn’t remember a time in recent memory where he felt this at ease.

 But then every once in a while, when there was a lull in the conversation as everyone mulled over crossword clues, Kaidan couldn’t help but feel that uncomfortable guilt gnawing in his gut—that feeling that told him he shouldn’t be here with Shepard, but back in his world, with his family and his friends.

 He swallowed it back with a long drink of cheap beer.  

 “I have no clue—what about you, Kaidan?” Garrus finally said.

 He shrugged. “I’m not really into equestrian sports.”

 “And here I thought you were the brains of the relationship,” Garrus teased.

 “Fuck off,” Shepard mumbled half-heartedly. Sitting back on his stool, he pulled his phone out of his front pocket and began scrolling. “I’m gonna look it up.”

 “You can’t look up answers online,” Kaidan said.

 “Report me to the crossword puzzle police, then.”

 He winked, the tip of his tongue teasing out from between his teeth. Kaidan couldn’t help but laugh, and took Garrus’ momentary distraction with the lone other customer in the corner to kiss away his expression.

 “Fine—but I still think you can figure it out.”

 Shepard rolled his eyes and accepted the second kiss. “Thanks, professor Alenko.”

 Twisting back around, Kaidan closed his hands around the sides of his glass and looked down at the bubbles. The warm light from the back of the bar made the lager look even more like honey, tiny bubbles floating up, piercing the smooth surface.

 “So, have you figured it out?” Garrus asked, returning with the slap of his towel on the countertop.

 “Apparently it’s an ‘Eventer’,” Shepard said, scribbling it down into the boxes.

“Well done—good Google skills,” Garrus said. Picking up Shepard’s empty glass he refilled it without asking, and Shepard accepted it with a tiny grunt as he continued to pick through the crossword.

 They answered a few more before Shepard slipped off his stool and pulled out a cigarette. Mumbling an ‘I’ll be back’ he left through the front door, Kaidan watching him go. Turning back around he was surprised to see Garrus with a rather pensive expression on his face, attention fixated on the door Shepard had just left through.

 “You okay?” Kaidan asked. He picked up Shepard’s pen and moved the crossword closer to himself, idly looking through the list of questions.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. A bit worried about Shepard but… then again, I always am.”

 “How come?”

 “He’s been a bit more guarded lately; like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Have you noticed it?”

 Kaidan nodded. “Yeah, I have. I think it’s got to do with his work.”

 Garrus snorted and began wiping down the already clean counter. “When it is not, eh?”

 Kaidan nodded again and fiddled with his coaster, thumbnail dragging along the warped edge. Thinking back, he honestly couldn’t pick out a time where Shepard’s life wasn’t being totally fucked over by his gang connection. He deserved better—he deserved a _real_ life.

 Shepard came back a few minutes later, the tip of his nose pink and the tension in his jaw still there. He didn’t sit back down but rather stood next to Kaidan, his hand on the small of his back as he chugged half of his beer. Putting it back down with a thud, he nodded at Garrus and turned to Kaidan.

 “C’mon—I’ll walk you to the bus-stop.”

 “You want to go?” he asked, slipping off his stool. Grabbing his coat he pulled out his wallet and threw a few bills down on to the counter, counting out the cost of the beer and a hefty tip in his head. Shepard didn’t say anything about it, but Kaidan knew he was judging him for pulling out wads of cash in the middle of the Eastside.

 “You’ve got university shit tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah; guess you’re right.”

 Kaidan thanked Garrus, Garrus in turn thanking him for the tip.

 “Have a good night, you two,” Garrus called as they left together.

 The air outside was crisp and cold, and Kaidan could smell the sea-air mixed with garbage from the open dumpsters. Saddling up to Shepard, he stayed pressed in close, ignoring the feeling of being watched as they strode down the streets, steam drifting up from the manholes.

 Kaidan had felt uneasy all day since his conversation with his father, but that unease was multiplied as soon as they came around the corner to see three men standing at the other end of the block. Kaidan faltered when he saw them, but Shepard nudged him forward with his elbow.

 The men continued to stand where they were, faces hidden by their hoods and baseball caps, streetlights doing little to illuminate their features. There were usually a smattering of people—mostly homeless—out on the streets even during the worst of weather, but they all seemed to have disappeared.

 “You know them?” Kaidan asked, trying to keep from staring at them. Shepard’s head was ducked, a smoke dangling from his lips as he walked with a confidence Kaidan could only hope to emulate.

 He was probably over-thinking it. Men stood at street corners all the time—Kaidan had seen it before. But try as he might to rationalize it, all Kaidan could feel was deep-seated _fear_.

 “Just keep walking and don’t make eye contact,” Shepard mumbled. He took Kaidan’s hand and gave it a brief, hard squeeze before releasing.

 They got to the end of the block and Kaidan continued to stare at the sidewalk, gum and cigarette butts blurring in his vision as his heart raced up into his throat. The men stepped out of their way, but were pressed in so close Kaidan had to squeeze past, chest brushing the side of one of the guys’ arms.

 “You should get out of here,” Shepard whispered.

 It was just as they were about to cross the street that a deep voice broke through the silence.

 “You ain’t even gonna introduce us to your new fag, Shepard?”

 Shepard tensed and Kaidan with him. He looked to Shepard, wanting him to tell him what to do, but Shepard avoided his gaze and turned around with an easy confidence, head rolled back and a smirk on his lips. He looked _excited_.

 “You sad I’m not sucking your dick, Kureck?” he asked.

 Kureck—the one in the middle—glared and tightened his grip on something in his pocket.

 “You’re a sick son of a bitch, Shepard. No wonder you’re working with Aria—she’s just as fucked in the head as you are.”

 The two men on either side of Kureck snickered, a weasel-type look to both of them.

 Shepard chuckled and stepped forward, Kaidan hanging back, unsure of what to do. A part of him wanted to run, but there were three of them and only one Shepard. His protective instinct won-out, and he stayed.

 Even though he knew he should have been calling his father.

 “So I see you’ve finally decided to make a move… we’ve known for a long while that your boss is buying a bunch of guns, getting ready to make a move on us. You’re not that fucking smart.”

 Kureck shrugged. “Who said we were hiding it?”

It started to rain. Kaidan jumped slightly as a cold droplet slipped under the collar of his jacket and landed on his neck. Cars drove by and yet no one seemed to pay attention to what was going on.

 The ‘romance’ of the Eastside—what little there was to begin with—was washing down the grimy sewer grate.

 “So what do you want, Kureck? Just to say hello? To wave your fancy little knife around and pretend you know how to use it?” Shepard asked. He bounced back on his heels, and Kaidan could feel the energy coming off of him.

 He wanted this.

 He _wanted_ to fight.

 Kureck grinned then, his henchmen mimicking it.

 “My boss wanted me to send a message to Aria. I figured you’d be the perfect—”

 The Blood Pack member on Kureck’s left charged, interrupting him before he could finish his speech. Bypassing Shepard he went straight for Kaidan, and Kaidan reacted the only way he knew how.

 Like the son of a cop.

 The guy tried to tackle Kaidan. Kaidan braced himself for the impact and kept upright, feet skidding on the cement as the air was knocked out of him. Pushing through the pain, he elbowed the guy hard on the back then brought his knee up, slamming it into his stomach.

 The guy dropped slightly, grip around Kaidan’s waist relaxing, but Kaidan hit him again in the stomach to make sure he was going down before shoving him off of him. As soon as the guy lay on the ground he looked toward Shepard, finding him in a two-one fight with Kureck and the third guy.

_Shit, shit, shit._

 There was a flash of silver under the streetlights, Kureck’s knife out from his pocket. He wasn’t using it, however.

 Maybe too afraid to—Kaidan wasn’t sure.

 Without thinking he grabbed the third man and pulled him back, catching him off-guard long enough to land a hard hit to his face. The man let out an angry scream, blood spurting out from his nose, but he came back in at Kaidan, slamming him up against the side of the building. Kaidan hit the brick hard and he thought he was going to be sick, but he pushed past the pain and managed to keep the back of his head safe from impact. Too bad it gave the guy time to grab his throat.

 Kaidan panicked briefly, the feeling of cold, wet hands wrapping tight around his neck enough for him to lose the momentum. But the fight was back in him as soon as his mind caught up with his body, and he found himself using a technique his father had taught him even before he knew what he was doing.

 Using his forearms he slammed them down on the top of his attacker’s arms, releasing his hold long enough for him to knee him hard in the groin. The man hunched over but stayed in close, and Kaidan went in for another swing.

  _Shit, shit, shit._

 It didn’t land, but the man jerked to the side far enough that he stumbled. Kaidan used the moment to his advantage and shoved him off. He fell to the ground, and Kaidan gave him a quick hit to the gut—hard enough to incapacitate him, but not enough to seriously hurt him.

_Find Shepard and then get the fuck out of here._

 Kaidan brushed the rain off his face with a shaking hand and turned around just in time to see Shepard on top of Kureck who was on the ground, Shepard swinging at him repeatedly in the face with a closed fist. Kureck was still struggling and swung upward to hit Shepard hard on the jaw. His knife was laying a foot away, blood visible on the blade, but whose blood Kaidan couldn’t tell.

 The sound of sirens broke through the streets, ricocheting off the buildings and tumbling through the alleyways. Kaidan didn’t even have time to think about what he was doing before he was running forward and dragging Shepard off of Kureck.

 “We have to go—now,” Kaidan said, grunting as Shepard stumbled back into him.

 Shepard nodded his head to the east and took off, Kaidan following him, his heart hammering in his chest and lungs burning. He felt like he was going to be sick, the adrenaline ripping through him, leaving him lightheaded and weak. They tore through the alleyways, the sound of sirens becoming quieter and quieter the farther they ran. Kaidan had no idea where they were going or when they would stop, but tried not to _think_ and simply ran until he couldn’t anymore.

 Finally they stopped behind a nondescript building, the smell of the sea closer than before. Resting his back against the wall, Kaidan closed his eyes and leaned forward, taking in greedy gulps of air. His hands were shaking—his entire body was shaking—and he could feel the adrenaline surge behind his eye, a migraine blossoming quickly.

_This is so fucked—this is so, so fucked._

 Shepard was a short distance away, hunched over just like he was, and as the pounding of his heart in his head subsided Kaidan could hear him laughing.

 He looked up to see Shepard straightening, a large cut across his cheek, blood cascading down and painting his skin red. He was still laughing like this was all just some big fucking game—like they hadn’t just been attacked in the streets, forced to defend themselves. Like he wasn’t bleeding from a stray knife slice—a cut intended for his guts.

 Kaidan couldn’t wrap his head around it; he couldn’t fathom why this was so fucking funny. He felt scared and out of his element, and the one grounding force in all of this was grinning like a maniac, finding enjoyment where Kaidan only saw darkness.

 It was then that reality sunk in— _really_ sunk in. Before Kaidan could pretend that this part of Shepard didn’t exist—that the world he grew up in wasn’t violent and unforgiving and so goddamn brutal. A part of Kaidan—the naïve, innocent, dumbass part of him—had thought that maybe Shepard didn’t partake in all of the shit his father said gang members did. That he was different from the rest of them; some fucking Robin Hood of the Eastside, an innocent pawn in the game of chess.

 And a part of Kaidan thought he liked the danger, and that Shepard’s bad boy persona was just that— a persona. But standing in an alleyway in the pouring rain, watching Shepard laugh about a gang fight, cheek red with blood and a feral glint in his eye, Kaidan realized that Shepard had _always_ been like this, and it had been Kaidan who had been too blind to see him for what he really was.

 A gang member; a man made on the streets of the Eastside. He wasn’t the pawn—he was the knight.

 Kaidan couldn’t hide from that reality anymore, especially now that he’d just become complicit in it. How was he going to look his father in the eye now?

 He glanced down at his hands, noting he’d cut open his knuckle. As if his body wanted him to remember what he’d just done.

 “It’s about time they fucking did something!” Shepard yelled with excitement. Kaidan could tell something had loosened in him as soon as the fight started; that the tension he’d been feeling for weeks was gone. All because he got in a gang fight on the streets.

 He squeezed his eyes shut and stayed hunched over. Shepard’s laughter died down, and Kaidan could hear his footsteps near over the patter of rain.

 “Hey… hey, Kaidan. You okay?” Shepard asked.

 Kaidan didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure _what_ he was, but okay definitely wouldn’t be the word to describe it.

 Shepard touched his shoulder and Kaidan shrugged it off, images of Shepard’s bloody knuckles slamming into a man’s face too much for even him. Standing, he brushed a hand over his forehead, pushing back dark, wet curls.

 He locked eyes with Shepard. He could tell Shepard knew something was different by the change in his expression. His smile faded and his brows furrowed, hands open and hanging limply at his side in a silent plea. Kaidan didn’t know what to say—didn’t know if there was anything he could say.

_I’m in over my head and I think this was a mistake?_

_I don’t know how I feel about you anymore?_

_I was a fool to think any of this was romantic?_

_You scare the shit out of me, John Shepard._

A part of Kaidan wanted to continue to ignore this aspect of Shepard. He wished he could just bury his head in the sand and go back into Shepard’s arms—breathe in his scent and feel his arms wrapped tight around him. And he hated that he wanted so badly just to give in.

 But he couldn’t. Not right now, anyways, with everything so fresh and raw.

“I need to… I need to go home,” Kaidan said, his voice sounding unlike his own. “I just—I need to think.”

 Home; the place he belonged.

 “Do you want me to walk with you?” Shepard asked. He wasn’t closing himself off like Kaidan had become accustomed to. If he were, Kaidan wouldn’t have been able to see the hurt in his eyes.

 “No, I think I’m good,” he said, surprised by the strength in his words. “Like I said I just need to… I have to go.”

 He turned then, not wanting to look at Shepard anymore. He knew if he looked back he’d just get swept up in the illusion again. So he didn’t—even when Shepard asked to let him explain. He didn’t need explanations right now; he just needed to…

 He didn’t know what he needed.

 Reaching the end of the alleyway, he turned the corner without a backward glance and headed toward the harbour.

 He’d find his own way home from wherever Shepard had dragged him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, reality strikes Kaidan hard atop the head. But don't be too worried; I have about twenty more chapters of this story for you guys to slog through. Maybe love will find a way?
> 
> Thank you for all the support, you guys. It's truly amazing and I appreciate all of it greatly. You're all bloody brilliant!
> 
> Cheers to Annaraven for catching all of my incredibly ridiculous typos.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kicking you guys while you're down with this chapter. Sorry...

 “I don’t think it’ll need stitches.”

 Shepard held back a grimace as Jack swabbed the cut on his cheek with disinfectant. Closing his eyes, he clenched his jaw and let her do her work, trusting her to have steadier hands than he did. Breathing into the pain, he focused on it and not the ache in his chest or the sickness in his throat. He had to keep it together—focus on the here and now and not what had happened.

 “How did Kureck manage to land a hit like this? He’s shit with a knife,” Jack mumbled. Her hand was steady on his jaw, fingers oddly gentle as she pressed the cotton swab against the end of the cut closest to his eye.

 “I was distracted,” Shepard said. It was true. Kaidan had been slammed into a wall and Shepard had panicked. His attention was on Kaidan long enough for Kureck to get in close enough to take a swipe.

 Jack pulled away and tossed the cotton ball into the bin with the rest of the bloodied mess. Grabbing the packet of butterfly bandages, she ripped it open and began applying them carefully along the cut. She ended up using three, which surprised Shepard.

 He thought it was smaller than that.

“Well, you’re lucky he didn’t get your eye,” she said. She leaned back against the bathroom counter, giving Shepard the once-over with narrowed eyes. “You’ll look like shit for a while but you’re not going to lose anything important.”

 Shepard touched the wound gently, pulling a face when he poked a little too hard. The skin was already tender, and he could feel more bruises blossoming across his jaw and stomach. He forgot how much a real street brawl could hurt.

 But the superficial wounds were manageable—uncomfortable, but manageable.

 The memory of Kaidan’s face as he looked at him with so much _fear_ … that was going to last.

 Closing his eyes he slouched on the toilet seat, head bowed as he tried to come to grips with everything. Blood Pack was looking for blood and he was a target; Aria was going to ramp up security and probably wanted every man on deck; the police were going to be hounding them for every little thing, and Kaidan… Kaidan was gone.

 And Shepard knew he wasn’t coming back.

 The one good thing in his life and he had to ruin it by being such a fuck-up. It was his lot in life to be a miserable, angry street punk, destined to meet an early grave or spend the rest of his days rotting in prison. But for a second—a stupid, foolish second—Shepard had felt like he could be something _more_. Kaidan had shown him a world outside the grime and grit of the Eastside, and Shepard had been dumb enough to think maybe he could belong there.

 But he didn’t. He knew it, Kaidan knew it; it just took something supremely fucked up for Kaidan to finally get some common sense and _leave_. Run as far away as possible before Shepard dragged him down with him. This was what Shepard thought he’d wanted—he didn’t want Kaidan wallowing in the filth alongside him.

 But now that it was over—now that Kaidan was gone—Shepard realized just how much he’d come to care for him.

 “I lost him,” Shepard mumbled, voice tight.

 He had been a fucking idiot to think that this was ever going to work out. He should have known that this was going to happen; should have listened to his gut instincts. His heart never got him anywhere but trouble.

 “Who?” Jack asked.

 Shepard sat up and leaned against the back of the toilet. “Kaidan was with me when I got jumped… he fought alongside me, but when we made a break for it he… he left.”

 He breathed hard through his nose and clenched his hands into tight fists. He didn’t know what to _do_ with himself—wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Anger with having let things get so serious? Remorse for having dragged Kaidan into this shit? Grief for having lost the one good thing in his life?

_God, when had things become so fucking fucked?_

 “You mean he left you? Like… dumped you?”

 Shepard nodded. “Yeah… basically.”

 Jack didn’t say anything. She just stood nearby, arms crossed over her chest. Shepard didn’t want to look at her—didn’t want to see the smug, satisfied look he knew she’d be wearing. He couldn’t deal with both his inner voice _and_ Jack’s telling him he’d fucked up. He just couldn’t; not when the fear in Kaidan’s eyes was still so fresh.

 “I think I was starting to fall in love with him,” he whispered. His voice was tight and he tried to clear his throat. He felt like he was choking on his emotions, and he ended up laughing it off, a bitter chuckle bubbling up. “Fucked up, right? First guy I fall for and he’s someone I knew I couldn’t keep.”

 Jack moved, and Shepard looked up just in time to catch the sympathy in her eyes as she busied herself with the rest of the clean-up.

 “You and I both know that love and shit… it’s not for us. Happily ever afters don’t happen for people like us…” she said, her voice soft.

 Shepard nodded. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”

 He stood up and brushed a hand over his eyes, mindful of the cut. Straightening himself out, he followed Jack out of the bathroom, keeping close to her and using her as a desperately needed stabilizing force. Entering the kitchen he sat down as she went straight for the fridge, pulling out two beers.

 Accepting one he took a long, deep drink, letting the bubbles burn away the tickle in his throat.

 “We need to tell Aria about this,” Jack said as she sat down across from him.

 “Yep.”

 “We’ll tell her I was with you.”

 Shepard quirked a brow. “Yeah?”

 “No one will believe you if you say you fought off three guys by yourself, and you can’t tell her you dragged a civilian into this shit. She’ll fucking castrate you.”

 At least there was one person looking out for him.

 Shepard took a sip of his beer and burped. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

 Jack rolled her eyes and glared, but Shepard could see the hint of a blush on her cheeks. “Yeah well… I just don’t want to have to get a new roommate if Aria kills you.”

 Shepard chuckled. He felt like shit, had lost the most important man in his life, and his beer tasted like crap, but at least he had Jack.

 He’d accept the distraction for tonight, but he knew the next few weeks were going to be hell.

XX

 “I’m pretty sure that’s blood.”

 “Nuh-uh—that’s just bloody piss.”

 “How can you tell?”

 “Grunt, Wrex—if you’re done discussing the stains on my floor, I would like to begin the meeting,” Aria said loudly.

 Everyone looked to her as she stood in the middle of Afterlife, her silhouette highlighted by the large screens behind her playing videos of women dancing seductively. The club was closed and the lights were on, letting everyone see just how grungy the floors had become over the years of fist-fights, drunkenness, and… other shit Shepard didn’t care to think about.

 “Sorry, ma’am,” Grunt said, stepping back from the stain they’d been inspecting. Nudging Shepard over in the booth, he squeezed down beside him.

 Shepard held back a grimace as the bruise on his stomach pulled.

 “As many of you heard, two of our men were jumped last night,” Aria began.

 “I’m not a man,” Jack said, annoyance in her voice as she stood far in the back.

 Aria clenched her jaw but shrugged it off, continuing as if there was no interruption. “Two of our _people_ were jumped last night by Blood Pack in what, I assume, was their declaration of war. They were dumb enough to admit that they’ve been smuggling in handguns—something we already knew—and that they’ve planned to take over my little empire.”

 She paced back and forth, her arms crossed over her chest, a fire in her eyes that told Shepard she liked this. She wanted the fight; wanted Blood Pack to fuck up like this so she could strike at them when they thought they were at the top. Shepard knew that feeling—knew the rush that came out of knowing you were better than they were, and that you were going to destroy them.

 Too bad that rush was now tainted by the knowledge that those instincts scared the shit out of Kaidan.

 Closing his eyes, Shepard leaned his head against the back of the booth, ignoring Grunt’s literal prodding. His head was pounding and the flashing lights behind Aria weren’t helping.

 “Of course we’re not going to let them do that—are we?” Aria asked.

 There was a resounding ‘no’ from the group, Shepard mumbling his own ‘fuck no’.

 “We’ve dealt with this before—other gangs coming into our territory, claiming that it’s their turn to take over. They haven’t put in the blood, sweat, and tears that we have; they aren’t the Eastside like _we_ are. The Eastside _belongs_ to Omega, and we are not going to let some no-name thugs shove us out. We are going to remind everyone what happened to Eclipse by repeating history—we’re going to _destroy_ Blood Pack through strength of will, intelligence, and a lot of fucking work.”

 Shepard could feel the energy rising, every member of Omega feeding off Aria’s words and the strength behind them. There was a reason she ran the gang, and there was a reason everyone followed her orders—no questions asked. She was the queen, the king, and the emperor all wrapped up in one.

 “Some of you already know that I’ve been looking into their smuggling operations for some time,” Aria continued, her voice all business. “Bray has managed to discover where they’ve been getting the guns and, most importantly, how. However, we have yet to discover the location of their cache, or the amount of guns they’ve accumulated. Therefore, I am… reluctant to rush into anything quite so quickly.

 “And so we will all need to exercise caution. As much as I hate to admit it, their weapons give them an advantage, and while I don’t expect they’re quite dumb enough to get into a shootout in the middle of the streets, they have all of you—including myself—pegged as targets. This leaves me in the unfortunate position of requesting that you all travel in pairs and stay in the Eastside area—I want to keep things contained. In addition to this, anyone who is on door duty at Afterlife must wear a bulletproof vest.”

 Shepard opened his eyes and rolled his head to the side, nudging Grunt.

 “You gonna fit in one of those?” he whispered.

 Grunt just chuckled.

“Thanks to a number of you we know the names of more than half of Blood Pack, and I expect you to study their Facebooks or whatever ‘social media’ they are on and learn their faces,” Aria ordered. “If you see them on the streets you engage them if you feel you won’t get a bullet through the gut—but I don’t want any heroes. You’re no use to me dead. Instead I’d prefer that you taunt them; intimidate them, make them feel _vulnerable_. Fight them, if you have to, but keep in mind that there are eyes all around us. It’s important that we remind them who is fucking boss is around here. Not Blood Pack, not the dead and buried Eclipse, but _Omega_.”

 There was another cheer from the group, and Shepard joined in with Grunt by banging the table. Aria stood tall before them, a small smirk on her lips and a fire in her eyes.

 “You’re all dismissed to continue regular operations,” she said once the cheering had died down. “Oh, and do make yourselves seen—we won’t cower in the shadows.”

 With the meeting dismissed everyone scattered to the wind, some going upstairs with Aria while others slipped out the back, shoulders hunching as the rain hit them. Shepard waited until they’d all left before getting up slowly, totally disregarding Aria’s orders to travel in pairs.

 He had arrived early to tell Aria what had happened in person, and had time to lick his wounds before everyone showed up for the meeting. Taking advantage of this, he sat down in the booth and awaited everyone’s arrival, hiding most of his injuries from them. It was one thing to get the beating but another to let his peers see it.  His middle was a completely bruised mess, and his eye had swollen up from where he’d been sliced. He felt like half of his face was one just massive bump, and he was pretty sure he’d start looking like a mini-Wrex if he kept up with the facial scarring.

 But it was a welcome, distracting pain. If he could focus on it and not the loss of Kaidan, he’d be alright…

Zipping up his jacket, he threw his hoodie over his head and left Afterlife from the front door, hands stuffed in his pocket. He could feel the Zippo Kaidan had given him press against his knuckles, but he ignored the urge to wrap his hand around it. It was just a lighter—a tool he used and nothing more. It had no sentimental value to him. He had to remember that; had to remember that attachments were liabilities that would only get him hurt.

 He’d been an idiot to think that maybe things with Kaidan would be different…

 He didn’t make it half a block before a familiar car sidled up to him on the street. Ducking his head, he pretended he hadn’t seen Anderson and kept walking, ignoring how the car kept pace with him for a good block. Realizing that he wasn’t going to just give up and leave, Shepard stopped and turned around, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

 That was until his muscles began to twitch and he involuntarily reached up to touch his cheek. Fuck, it hurt to even _glare_.

 “That looks nasty,” Anderson said as he exited the car. Putting on his cap, he hooked his thumbs under his belt and strolled over to Shepard, taking his time.

 “It’s nothing,” Shepard said. “Cut my cheek shaving.”

 Anderson hummed and looked down the street, eyes narrowing as he watched the city’s poor try their best to find shelter from yet another day of rain. Turning back to Shepard, he nodded his head toward the Tim Horton’s on the corner.

 “Buy you a coffee?”

 Shepard knew Aria was watching his every move, and if she saw him talking to a cop he knew she’d get on his case. It wasn’t worth it for a cheap cup of coffee.

 “I’m fine talking here,” Shepard replied. “What is it you wanted?”

 “Well the strangest thing happened last night, you see. We got a call about a fight on the streets. Turned up to find a rival gang kid passed out on the sidewalk—all beat-up and bloodied. Beside him was a knife—a pretty nasty one at that. That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that… shaving accident, would it?”

 Shepard shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 Anderson hummed, and Shepard caught a flash of disappointment in his gaze. Shepard knew he shouldn’t have felt bad—it wasn’t like he owed Anderson anything—and yet…

 Fucking Kaidan. It was his fucking fault—making him go fucking soft, taking away his edge, and then freaking the fuck out and leaving him with all this fucking shit.

 “Well… if you remember anything or hear anything come and tell me, alright? No questions asked of you—I’m just trying to keep the streets safe for the poor guys who’ve got nothing to do with whatever your group has got going on.”

 “Yeah… right,” he said, nodding.

 Anderson passed him his card—probably the third in as many months. Shepard took it, like he always did, and shoved it in his pocket to be forgotten, also like he always did. He liked Anderson—he was alright for a cop—but he wasn’t about to stick his neck out for the guy. And feeding information to a cop? That was sticking his dick and balls out there, too.

 “Keep out of trouble, Shepard,” Anderson said.

 He left then, Shepard watching him go. Fiddling with the card in his pocket he realized there was something attached to it, and pulled it out to find it was a torn off piece of a winning Roll-up the Rim cup.

 It was for a free coffee.

 Shepard’s surprise didn’t last long once his back pocket began to buzz. Pulling out his phone, his excitement dropped when he saw it was a text from Aria and not…

_Fuck. He’s never going to text you again, Shepard. Get fucking used to it. Now._

_[10:23 AM] AT: Finch saw you speaking to a cop outside Afterlife. Come see me.  
[10:23 AM] AT: Now._

 Shepard shoved his phone back into his jeans pocket and went into the Tim Horton’s instead. He was going to get his coffee first.

XX

 Shepard wasn’t one to drink when he was sad. There was something so cliché about finding yourself in a bar, drowning your sorrows in a drink and lamenting the loss of your future over a bowl of peanuts. But after the week Shepard had gone through, having a few too many drinks at Palaven was the only way he’d make it through without losing his shit entirely.

 Aria had put him on a mandatory vacation for three weeks. She’d claimed it was because she was worried about his health—and that was a valid concern, considering he’d almost lost his eye in a knife-fight—but he knew it was really because of Anderson. She thought because he was known by police they’d be following him around to get information on Omega. And thus, he was told to stay away for three weeks.

  _‘Find a warm body and snuggle up with him for a few weeks. Fuck whatever is in your system out.’_

 And there was the real reason he was staring down the half-empty glass of his third beer.

 Kaidan hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, and hadn’t made any effort to let Shepard know this was truly just him sorting his shit out. It had been utter radio silence for the past week, a stark contrast to the months prior where Shepard would be bombarded with daily messages from Kaidan, anywhere from emojis to dick pics, to full on conversations.

 Kaidan was definitely gone.

 Shepard was starting to deal with it and not just push it aside like he’d been attempting to do for the past week. And it sucked.

 “Your cheek is healing well,” Edi said. She was sitting beside Shepard at the bar, her apron still on and her shift not yet over. Despite technically working she’d stayed with Shepard most of the evening, Garrus picking up her slack while she cooed over Shepard.

 He really wasn’t going to complain.

 “Yeah… Jack did a good job cleaning it up,” he mumbled. Taking a big swig, he downed the last of the beer and dropped the glass back down onto the coaster. The cut had begun to heal, the burning ache being replaced with an insistent itching and an annoying scab. He’d managed to sleep on his left side last night—a victory, to be sure.

 Edi reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder, long fingers kneading his tight muscles. Sighing, he leaned into her touch and watched Garrus refill his beer without any questions asked. They both knew what had happened and had been respectfully polite about it. They didn’t ask him how he was feeling, didn’t tell him to just cheer up—they just let him _be_.

 “You know I only had two boyfriends before Kaidan?” Shepard asked.

 Edi hummed. “Were they nice?”

 Shepard snorted and took another deep drink. He was getting drunk and his walls were dropping, but he didn’t care. He was with Edi, safe in her little bubble of golden hair, large, blue eyes, and rose-scented perfume. He could tell her all of his little secrets and he felt like she’d keep them safe.

 Edi was fucking _lovely_.

 “Both were wastes of skin. First guy was when I was eighteen. Turned out he just wanted to join Omega and thought being with me would get him in. I told him to fuck off after a month of his bullshit. The second guy was… I thought things were going smoothly, you know, but… turns out the bastard was a user. He stole some of the packages I was transporting and almost got killed over it. I ended up beating the shit out of him and telling him to get lost… better treatment than Aria would have given him...”

 Edi frowned but didn’t say anything.

 “After that fuck up I decided that relationships would just fuck everything up for me. The only people I could trust were Jack and me… and I was happy with that, you know? Perfectly content to just be me without the fucked up baggage relationships brought. Because they never last, do they?”

 He turned to Edi, lids heavy with exhaustion and a mild case of intoxication. She sent him a pout and cupped his cheek gently.

 “How did you know Joker was worth it—that you wanted to be with him forever?”

 “It took time,” Edi said, “and a lot of work. I left my home country to be with him, after all. But I guess that over time we just became… in sync with one another. His happiness became my happiness, and my successes his as well. We began to work as a single unit. If you’re asking for a particular moment in which I knew… I cannot really tell you. One day I just thought that I wanted to be with him for the rest of my years. It was… both gradual and yet also sudden. I think we both knew when we first met that this was it. We were the ones for each other.”

 “And the inevitable death or betrayal—doesn’t bother you at all?”

 Edi chuckled. “You’re amusing when you’re drunk and pessimistic.”

 Shepard rolled his eyes and went back to his beer. Kaidan would have hated this type of beer—too hoppy for him. He liked his beer robust but not so much that it was like drinking a loaf of bread…

  _God, he’s so fucking rich and pretentious. Fuck._

 “Kaidan was different…” Shepard mumbled after a time. He wished he could just shut up about him, and he was certain Edi wished so too. But he couldn’t.

 “Different from your other boyfriends?”

 He nodded and rolled his thumb along the edge of his glass. He needed a smoke but he stayed where he was, too tired to move.

 “He was passionate,” Shepard explained. “He had goals and inspirations—I mean aspirations. Or whatever, you know what I mean. He wanted to be a _good_ person. He wanted to make a difference in the world, and he wanted to do it through his own hard work and strength. He never piggybacked off of anyone or anything—it was all through his own determination that he got where he was… and he was so smart. So goddamn smart. I felt like an idiot next to him, but I didn’t care. I could listen to him go on about whatever, so long as he kept talking…”

 Biting his bottom lip, he chewed on it for a bit.

 “He had his issues—everyone does—but I didn’t care… I just liked being around him. Liked feeling like I mattered to someone. He’d look at me and I… I felt like I was someone, you know? Someone who could be something more than a messed up kid from the streets… but then I fucked it up. I fucked it up by being me. By _being_ that kid from the streets.”

 “It wasn’t your fault that he left,” Edi said. She had started to pet the back of his head, rubbing the short hairs like he was a small child.

 “Wasn’t it, though?” he said, brushing her hand away. “I dragged him into a gang fight, Edi. I knew my life was shit and I knew that it was going to get him hurt, but I did nothing to stop it. I put him in harm’s way! What kind of a person does that to someone they...”

 He trailed off and looked down at his drink. He tossed back the last of it but didn’t ask for another. He was starting to feel like shit, the pleasant buzz drifting into aggressive drunk territory quickly.

 “I don’t remember you forcing him to be with you, nor do I remember you forcing him to come to the Eastside,” Edi said. There was some defensiveness to the tone she took—like Shepard had insulted her by saying what he did. “Kaidan is an adult—he made his choices. You told him who you were and what you did and he knew the dangers, therefore you cannot be blamed for what happened.”

_Edi… always so fucking logical._

Shepard lost his bluster then. Sinking back into his stool he ran a hand over his face, brushing some of the haze away.

 “Doesn’t matter in the end, does it? He went and did the right thing by leaving… took him too fucking long if you ask me, but… it’s for the best. I’m not cut out to be the type of person he deserves and it’d only get worse the longer he stuck around. I’m better alone—I _work_ better alone. I’m not constrained by anyone anymore. I can continue with my work without all the drama… Aria can’t lose her shit at me anymore… I can fuck whoever I want… drink whatever piss beer I want.”

 He’d been a fool to let his guard down like that. It had been a moment of weakness that lasted six months, but Shepard was determined to go back to how he was before: a pessimist with a desire for violence, who knew his place in the order of things and didn’t hope for more. He’d forget about Kaidan and move on with his life, and hope that Kaidan would do the same.

 They were too different. Their worlds would never merge and they’d been dumb to even try. Kaidan was better off without him; everything would be less complicated. It’d be what Kaidan deserved—a happy, stable life, where he could please his parents and spend time with his friends, and maybe find a new person to be with: someone whom Kaidan wouldn’t have to be ashamed of. Someone with an education and an honest career, who had a house in the nice part of town and could talk about science and history with Kaidan. Someone who could take him out to all the wonderful places he deserved to visit, and who could make Kaidan feel like he was the prince that Shepard knew him to be.

 He deserved someone who would love him unconditionally—no strings attached, with all their heart.

 Shepard wished that he could be that someone. But he wasn’t, and no amount of wishing would make it so.

 He was a fool for love; had become addicted to the stuff. But not anymore. He was getting clean—going on the straight and narrow. It was like Jack had said: love wasn’t for people like them. It was for those who had hope and a purpose to their life. It was for those _deserving_.

 Slipping off her stool Edi wrapped her arms around Shepard’s waist from behind and leaned her chin against his shoulder. “There are plenty of other sea animals in the ocean.”

 Shepard chuckled. “You mean fish in the sea?”

 Edi made a displeased noise in the back of her throat. “I swear I translated that expression correctly…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again for all the support, you guys! YOU'RE ALL BIOTIC GODS! Also, as an aside, I made Edi from the Netherlands. I think I mention it briefly in a previous chapter, but it should be repeated. 
> 
> Cheers to Annaraven for the beta work :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan realizes he's been a dummy. Shepard maybe doesn't totally agree.

 Kaidan fiddled with the edge of his shirt, rubbing the soft, well-worn fabric between his thumb and forefinger. The logo on the shirt—some old motorcycle company—was faded and cracked, but Kaidan somewhat suspected it had been purchased that way.

 The smell in the fabric wasn’t something that could be bought, however. It was a subtle mix of spicy cologne and a unique musk Kaidan had come to associate with home; with safety and understanding; with the knowledge of unfiltered acceptance,; with love and laughter and passion.

 With a man Kaidan had abandoned.

 Slipping the shirt off, Kaidan rubbed his eyes and brushed away the fog of sleep. Bringing the shirt up to his nose, he took in a breath, frowning when the scent of Shepard was fainter than it had been last night. Dropping the shirt back onto his lap he rested his elbows on his knees and cupped his head, exhausted despite just having woken up.

 He’d spent the last week trying to go back to his normal life—with ‘normal’ friends and ‘normal’ activities; tapas with the girls, lab work with Miranda, an impromptu visit with his mum before she ran off to another meeting. 

 All of it was perfectly normal and respectable.

 But what was new was the ache in his chest and the sense of guilt that sat deep in his gut for having just _left_. As soon as things got rough—as soon as everything Shepard had warned him about happened—he panicked. Ran home like a frightened child, plagued with nightmares and faced with the reality of Shepard’s world.

 He didn’t belong there. He knew it and Shepard certainly knew it, too. He tried to warn Kaidan—tried to convince him this wasn’t just some game—but he’d been an idiot. He’d been blinded by his love for Shepard that he couldn’t see the forest beyond the trees. Shepard’s world was brutal and it was hard. It was where the strong survived through barbaric means; where the only way to get by was to hit before they hit you first.

 Try as he might Kaidan couldn’t get the image of Shepard’s bloodied fists and cut up cheek out of his mind—couldn’t reconcile the loving, warm person he experienced behind closed doors, with the man who laughed when he fought and whose scars were from too many close calls and not enough common sense. Shepard enjoyed his world; he was _made_ for it. Kaidan knew this but had thought…

 He had no idea what he’d thought. That Shepard could just get away from it? That they could start a life together beyond the confines of their statuses in the world? That Shepard could just leave the brutality that molded him all behind? That it would all be so easy?

 Kaidan knew that wasn’t possible. And so he left instead. Unable to face the reality and unwilling to understand, he’d fled. He’d made his mind up even as he turned from the alleyway that this was _it_. That everything had to be over between them before someone got hurt.

 Only Kaidan hadn’t accounted for how much the loss would hurt him.

 It was a persistent ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away; like the intense, painful longing he had when he was at camp as a child, far from home and amongst strangers. He was homesick for Shepard.

 But he had to push it aside. He’d done the right thing. Things would never have worked out between them—Kaidan knew this now. And so he threw himself into his old life; reconnected with friends and tried his hardest to convince himself that this was the right thing to do.

 He and Shepard were too different, and the heartache he had now was minor compared to what would have happened if he’d stayed.

 Letting out a deep sigh, he raised his head and tossed the shirt back on to his bed. Standing, he stretched his arms high above his head and prepared for another day of ‘Everything is Okay’.

XX

 “She likes purple.”

 Kaidan’s mother quirked a brow, hands poised over a blouse covered in red paisley with gold buttons.

 “Tali likes purple,” she repeated.

 “Yep.”

 “Great—that narrows things down.”

 Kaidan noted the sarcasm in her voice but chose to ignore it. “And like… space things.”

 “Purple and ‘space things’. Anything else? Does she read? Is she into fashion? Play video games?”

 “She reads romance books… I think.”

 His mother sighed and pushed her glasses further up her nose. “No wonder you need my help.”

 Tali’s birthday was coming up and Kaidan had vowed that he wasn’t going to fall back on a gift-card this year. He wanted to get her something he knew she’d truly enjoy—something with thought behind it. But it was proving to be a tad more difficult than he’d first thought. Tali liked a lot of things, but the things she _loved_ usually came in the form of massive pieces of machinery that she could try and fix. As much as he’d think she’d enjoy it, he didn’t want to give her his car for the day and let her do what she pleased with it.

 Even if he did end up with a rocket-ship.

 So he called his mum—three birds, one stone. He’d spend time with his mother, please his father, and get a gift for Tali that was sure to bring a huge smile to her face.

 Maybe even a squeal.

 “I don’t think I want to buy her a romance novel though,” he added as they strolled through the clothing racks in the heavily perfumed shop.

 “Probably a good idea—unless you were attempting to proposition her,” his mother mumbled as she scanned a wall of shoes.

 Picking up a heeled shoe she presented it to Kaidan. It was dark blue and covered in silver sparkles. “How about this?”

 “Uh… well… I don’t know her shoe size,” he said, taking the shoe from his mother. “And she doesn’t really wear heels.”

 She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Alright—what’s up?”

 Kaidan paused, finger pressed against the sharp heel tip. He knew she was on to his very obvious attempt at making up for his recent absence, but pretended to feign ignorance despite that.

 “I’m just looking for a gift for a friend—I thought you’d be helpful,” he said.

 She rolled her eyes and took the shoe back. “I don’t even know your friend,” she began, “I’ve met her twice, and both times it was very brief. You obviously invited me along for another reason.”

 “There is no other reason,” he mumbled. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he scooted over to the side as a gaggle of teenage girls passed on their way to the wall of jeans.

 “Please don’t insult my intelligence, love. I can see that little line between your eyebrows—you can’t lie to me. I know all your tells.”

 Kaidan felt like a small child who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His mother had a way of making him feel like a complete idiot with a simple _look_.

 “I just missed you—”

 The girls pushed their way through them, breaking up what had promised to be a very heartfelt confession. His mother grabbed his arm then and led him out of the store, sneezing as they passed the incense burners near the entrance.

“Sorry about that. I just couldn’t stand being in there any longer,” she said, pulling out a tissue from her purse. Dabbing her eyes under her glasses, she glanced back at the store. “Whose idea was it to go in there?”

 “Yours,” Kaidan said, smiling slightly as she passed him a tissue as well. Taking it, he wrapped his hand around it, scrunching it into a little ball.

 “Well remind me to never have that idea again.”

 “Sure.”

 “So what were you going to say?” she asked, not letting Kaidan get away that easy.

 They started walking through the mall at a leisurely pace, no destination in mind. A part of Kaidan wanted to just be entirely truthful with her—tell her about Shepard and his situation, about their relationship and how it had started and subsequently ended, and how he was desperately in love with him despite everything that had happened.

 Honestly, Kaidan didn’t see why he should keep it wrapped up any longer. They had broken up—he and Shepard were no longer together. No more worrying about how to introduce Shepard to his father, no more living a double life, and there was no more avoidance on his part. With Shepard out of the picture, Kaidan was free to fulfill all the obligations he’d been neglecting.

 But he couldn’t get the words out. Looking over at his mother he couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing her—even if he knew she would understand. There was just something so paralyzing about even the slightest chance of disappointing his mother that he couldn’t do it.

 He couldn’t tell her the full truth.

 “I’ve missed you,” he said instead. They paused next to a bench, Kaidan rocking back on his heels. “I just… I’ve been absent for the last little while, and I… I guess I want to make it up to you. With everything going on in my life I don’t want to… I dunno, shut you out? And I feel like I’ve been doing that a lot, lately. And I want to stop and… I want to be present in your life again.”

 His mother listened carefully, hands wrapped around the strap of her purse in a relaxed pose she often took. When Kaidan was done with his little speech she reached out and took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing.

 “Did your father point these things out to you? Or was this all from your own observations?” She smiled and winked.

 Kaidan smiled as well and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, so Dad might have pointed some of it out, but he was right. I have been distant. And I don’t want to be anymore. I want to be present and see more of you _and_ Dad. I just… I want to get back to normal.”

 Her brows furrowed then, and she looked at Kaidan critically. “Normal?” she repeated.

 Kaidan resisted the urge to slam his hand against his forehead. It had been going so well before, and then he had to go and say that incredibly loaded word.

_Nice going._

“Yeah, you know… just hanging out with you guys. Not being so wrapped up in university and… obligations and expectations.”

_And Shepard._

 His mother sat down on the bench and patted the seat next to her. Sitting down beside her, Kaidan pressed his hands together and looked down at the tiled floors that were far too shiny for their own good.

 “If normal involves you being so miserable, I don’t think it’s what you should be going for,” she said simply. Kaidan looked up from the floor and locked eyes with her. She was inspecting him carefully, lips pulled tight. “You’ve looked unhappy the last few times I’ve seen you. I know you don’t want to talk about it otherwise you’d have already told me, but… you don’t seem _happy_ , Kaidan. And I expect it has something to do with this ‘normal’ you’ve been trying to get back to.”

 Kaidan had been trying his hardest to believe the lies he’d been telling himself all week to make things easier, and a small part of him had begun to believe it. Shepard was dangerous and he was trouble, and they _both_ knew this. It was best if they cut ties now before things got even more serious than they had. They would never have their happy ending; their perfect, normal little lives.

 But he guessed he’d been naïve to think he could fool his mother.

 Of course she saw the ache in his chest and the sickness in his gut. Of course she could see through his fake smiles.

 Of course she knew her son was heartbroken.

 Looking back down at the floor he squeezed his hands tighter together, the tissue pressed in between. “I’m just… going through some stuff right now,” he said slowly. “I don’t really know how to talk about it or… or if I want to talk about it, you know? But… I’m working through it. Don’t worry, okay?”

 She sighed and patted his shoulder. “I won’t pry—even though that’s asking a _lot_ from a mother—but I will say this: while I have enjoyed seeing you these last few days, I don’t enjoy seeing you look so sad.”

 Kaidan nodded. He really didn’t enjoy being this fucking sad, either.

 “How about some ice cream?” she suggested.

 Kaidan chuckled and sat up straight. “Mum, I’m twenty-seven; ice cream isn’t going to fix everything anymore.”

 She shrugged and stood. “It can’t hurt to try.”

XX

 “A gift card for Chapters!”

 “I thought maybe you could get that book on ancient technology,” Kaidan said.

 “That’s a brilliant idea. Thank you so much!” Tali blew him a kiss from across the living room before turning her attention back to the pile of gifts that were stacked around her like a tiny fortress.

 “I thought you weren’t going to get her a gift-card this year,” Liara whispered as she leaned in close to him.

 Taking a sip of his wine he shrugged. “And you got her something unique?”

 “I got her space-themed leggings and a shirt with some of Leonardo da Vinci’s sketches on it.”

 “To go along with her other twenty pairs of space leggings?”

 “Exactly.”

 Kaidan caught the smallest of smiles out of the corner of his eye, and nudged Liara gently with his elbow.

 There was a slight lull in the gift giving after that. Tali was distracted by discussing the finer details of the cheese platter with Kal, while everyone else chatted with one another, a low hum accompanying the pop music playing quietly in the background.

 Everywhere around Kaidan was decadence and respectability—from the food they ate to the wine they drank, to the conversations they had about politics and current events. Everyone had dressed up in their respectable clothes with their respectable money, drinking their expensive spirits and wines while eating their overpriced cheese.

 Kaidan wished Shepard was with him. He’d probably have added some zest to the party. Kaidan could picture him now, frowning at the cheese platter and looking for some beer that wasn’t labeled with the words ‘craft’ and communist-inspired logos. Then he’d whisper suggestions in Kaidan’s ear, offering colourful commentary while Kal continued to try and win Tali’s affections by being the loudest in the room.

 Tali had even invited Shepard to come to her party, and Shepard had agreed, although he seemed a bit lost as to what was expected of him. He’d even asked Kaidan about what sort of gift she’d appreciate, despite Tali saying she didn’t need anything.

 It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it had only been three weeks…

 There was a shout from behind the pile of gifts and Kaidan looked up just in time to see Tali yelling about a ‘robotic arm’ while Kasumi cackled with glee. Swallowing back the tightness in his throat with the last of his wine, he excused himself on the basis of needing more. Slipping into the kitchen he leaned against the counter, holding back a grimace as the living room got louder the more excited Tali became.

_This is all on you, Alenko. You left him and you knew it wouldn’t be easy. Deal with the consequences…_

Pouring himself another glass, he wandered back into the living room just in time to see Tali had finished with her gifts and was thanking each guest personally with a hug. She came to him last and seemed to hold on to him a little longer, bushy brown hair getting in his mouth as she squeezed him hard.

 “You okay?” she asked as they pulled away, “You look like someone just murdered your cat.”

 Kaidan chuckled. “I’m fine, Tali. Just a bit tired.”

 “Where is Shepard? Didn’t he say he would come?” she asked. Kaidan swore she actually looked disappointed, which was a stark change from Liara who seemed highly uncomfortable anytime Shepard was slouching around in her presence.

 “Uh… Shepard and I… we uh… we aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

 Tali stared at him with wide eyes. “But… but _why_?”

 Kal saddled up to Tali then with two beers in his grasp. He passed one to Tali but made no move to leave after that. Kaidan sent him a look but he wasn’t really all that concerned with Kaidan and more with the pretty girl he’d been flirting with all evening.

 Normally he wouldn’t have been annoyed, but normally he wasn’t talking about incredibly personal things.

 “Shepard? That was your boyfriend, right?” Kal asked.

 Kaidan nodded. “Was, yeah. How do you know about him?”

 “Tali told me about him,” Kal explained.

 He shot Tali a look and she at least had the good grace to look a bit sheepish.

 “Sorry—I thought you two were solid,” she said.

 “We were. At least, I thought we were but… stuff happens. Our lives just… it didn’t lineup like I had hoped we would.” He shrugged and took a long drink of his wine. He really didn’t want to talk about this right now—he was tired and lonely and regretful. And also a little drunk.

 All in all a very bad combination.

 And then Kal had to go and light the proverbial powder keg.

 “Hey man, don’t worry about it,” he said, gently bumping Kaidan’s shoulder with his fist. “Plenty of other guys in the sea, yeah? And I mean, if you really miss him you can just go to one of the corners in the Eastside and pick up another like him.”

 Boom.

 “Kal!” Tali yelled, jerking out of his grasp.

 “What did you just say?” Kaidan asked, his voice low and oddly even.

 Kaidan wasn’t sure if Kal was referring to Shepard’s corner boy days, or if he was making a remark about other ‘corner’ jobs, but Kaidan really didn’t fucking care to get the specifics. Biting the inside of his cheek he tried to suppress the overwhelming urge to hit Kal, but it was getting harder and harder the longer Kal tried to justify it.

 “I was only kidding!” he said, laughing. “It’s just a joke, bro.”

 Even as he defended it Kaidan could see the haze in his eyes from the beer begin to clear, and his smile became a nervous one, the corners of his lips twitching before the smile was all but gone.

 Kaidan hadn’t felt this fucking angry since Rahna and Vyrnnus. Clenching his jaw he tried to keep control but the walls were closing in. The apartment had gone oddly quiet and Kaidan wasn’t sure if it was all in his head or if everyone could feel that same shift in the air.

 “Apologize, Kal,” Tali hissed.

 But it was too late. Kaidan didn’t care about an apology—didn’t think that would begin to fix what he’d insinuated. He knew on a base level that Kal didn’t know about Shepard’s past—didn’t know about the horrors he endured just to survive to the next day—but he really didn’t feel like letting it go. Ignorance didn’t justify it. Not this time.

 “Look, I’m so—” Kal began, but Kaidan cut him off with a sharp glare.

 “I don’t care what you meant, but you have no right to talk about John like that,” he said, loud enough that those who were pretending not to listen now had an excuse to look their way. “You don’t know anything about him or where he came from. Y-you just don’t know anything. You don’t know how—how hard he tries to just get some basic dignity in a world that wants him to feel ashamed of who he is. Do you know how hard his life is? We—we just stand up here in our apartments drinking fancy wines a-and eating expensive cheeses, all the while looking down on people like John. But you don’t stop to think about their lives, do you? You don’t, do you? All you do is judge them because they’re not the same as us.

 “And we’re all fucking guilty of it,” Kaidan said, addressing the room. He could see Liara and Ashley off to the side, mouths shut and hands wrapped awkwardly around their drinks. “We don’t stop to think about how their life has shaped them—changed them from what they could have been. We just get fucked up about the things they do because we’ve never had to go to bed hungry a-and alone, and so scared about what the next day will bring.  We’re too busy just…  we’re _judging_ them, you know? We’re privileged, naïve assholes who don’t know how good we have it.

 “A-and then people like you,” he said, turning back to Kal, “go and say shit like that about a man like John. About a guy who has been through so much but is still one of the most genuine, honest people I’ve ever met. He’s _never_ judged me, or treated me differently, never made me feel like a—like a freak. He didn’t choose to lose his parents o-or to live on the streets, he never chose any of it. But despite it all he’s been nothing but kind and caring to me. He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever known and I was an idiot to walk away from him in exchange for all of _this_.”

 Kaidan had never been one for making speeches and was, frankly, horrible at pulling them off. He guessed the threat of Shepard’s honour was enough to pull the politician out of him.

 But as soon as he finished he remembered _why_ he hated making speeches. Everyone was staring at him, eyes wide and mouths slightly slack. Someone—Kaidan didn’t know who—had turned off the music, and the apartment was completely silent save for the persistent thrum of blood in his ears.

 He had to go.

 He had to go where he knew he belonged.

 He had to find Shepard.

 “I have to go,” he said. Putting his glass down on the table he pulled Tali in for a half-hug, kissing her temple. “I’m sorry, Tali. Happy birthday and… yeah.”

 She patted his arm and nodded. “It’s alright.”

 Kaidan ducked his head and went to the door, avoiding Liara and Ashley’s gaze. As he closed the door he could hear Tali yelling.

 “Ya manyak! What the fuck were you thinking?”

XX

  In the movies dramatic confessions of love usually involved running through the rain, soaked through t-shirts, and sweeping, dramatic music. In reality Kaidan’s path to Shepard’s apartment involved getting stuck in traffic, dropping his keys in a puddle, and almost bashing his skull in running up the stairs to Shepard’s floor.

 All he knew was he had to make things _right_ with Shepard. His mother had been correct and his argument with Kal had just further solidified everything in Kaidan’s mind. Shepard made him _happy_ —it was as simple as that. He loved him and wanted to be with him, and he didn’t give a shit about everything else. The gang wars, his father’s profession, and their completely different lives didn’t matter to Kaidan.

 All that mattered was Shepard being back in his life. He wanted the ache to go away—he wanted to go _home_.

 Reaching Shepard’s apartment he slammed his fist multiple times against the door, knocking insistently until someone came and opened it up.

 It was Jack who eventually answered.

 “What the _fuck_ are you doing?” she yelled as she threw the door open with a flourish. Kaidan noted she had a knife in one hand and a root beer in the other.

 “I’m here to see John,” he panted out.

 She shoved the blade of her knife back into the handle and took a long sip of her pop. She made no move to let him in. “Did you come alone?”

 “Yeah.”

 “You an idiot or something?”

 “Uh… no?”

 She rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist, shoving his watch in his face. “This? This alone could be sold for a couple hundred dollars. Anyone would take advantage of this.” She dropped his wrist. “On top of that Blood Pack knows your face now. They’ll jump you same as the rest of us if they see you.”

 Kaidan nodded. “Yeah, okay—it’s dangerous. Is Shepard in?”

 She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No. He’s off getting drunk considering the one good thing in his life got scared and ran like some fucking baby.”

 Kaidan clenched his jaw. “Yeah… it’s true. I did run. But I want to find him and… I dunno. I just need to see him.”

 “And say what? Sorry for being such a fucking pussy, please take me back?”

 Kaidan shrugged. “Kinda, I guess…”

 Jack rolled her eyes and looked down at her feet. Tapping her foot on the floor, she chewed on her bottom lip. It took her a moment before she looked back up at Kaidan, a glint in her eye. “You know you really fucked him up, right? Before you showed up he had it pretty good. His boss wasn’t after him, his friends weren’t watching his every move, and he didn’t have any fucked up ideas about getting out of this shithole. But then you showed up and fucked him up completely. He started getting ideas about leaving the Eastside—about living an actual life. He was even talking about going back to _school_. And then you fucking left and took all those hopes and dreams with you. You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

 Kaidan nodded. He didn’t know what to say.

 “Yeah… yeah, I know I fucked up. You don’t have to tell me that because I get it. Shepard trusted me and I… I panicked. But I want to make it up to him, Jack. I need to see him. Even if he tells me to fuck off, I _need_ to see him. Just to say sorry. Please?”

 She sighed and Kaidan could see her flexing her jaw. Finally she stepped out of the way and held the door for him.

 “He’s in his room,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of it.

 “I thought you said he was—”

 “I fucking lied, alright?” she said quickly. “Now go in there before I change my mind.”

 Kaidan hurried inside and kicked off his shoes. Keeping his jacket on he approached Shepard’s door and knocked gently.

 There was no answer.

 Knocking again, he gripped the handle and turned, opening the door a crack.

 Shepard was lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling, headphones on with terrible punk music blasting from them. When he saw Kaidan he sat up quickly, practically throwing off his headphones in the process.

 “Kaidan?”

 “Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

 Shepard nodded. Kaidan caught the slightest glimmer of hope in his eyes before he snuffed it out, face going blank.

 “You come here for your books?” he asked. He swung his legs around and sat on the edge of his bed.

 “No I didn’t—wait, my books?”

 Shepard nodded to his desk in the corner. There, stacked in a neat pile, lay two textbooks Kaidan had been looking for the last two weeks.

 “No, I didn’t come here for those,” he said, turning back to Shepard.

 He looked exhausted. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced, and there was a slouch in his shoulders that Kaidan knew he put there. What was most difficult to look at was his cheek. The cut was long and scabbed over, reaching from the corner of his mouth up to his eye.

 Kaidan couldn’t help but think of that night again—the sound of Shepard’s fists as they hit bone and meat, the feeling of the wind being sucked out of him as he was slammed against the wall, the sheer terror that he might get stabbed or shot or who knew what else.

 And the sight of Shepard—laughing and bleeding, white teeth awash with blood and knuckles bruised and torn open.

_He didn’t choose this life. That isn’t who he is—you both know that_.

  _‘He was even talking about going back to_ school _.’_

“Can we talk?” Kaidan asked, his voice strong despite the frantic beating of his heart.

 Shepard nodded. Standing he grabbed his jacket and pulled out a pack of smokes. “Let’s go outside.”

 Kaidan followed, keeping his distance despite wanting nothing more than to pull him into his arms and breathe in his familiar scent.

 He thought the ache would leave once he saw him, but if anything it hurt more. To be so near and yet unable to touch him was excruciating.

 They walked down to the lobby without saying anything, Shepard always a step ahead. Throwing on his jacket Shepard light up in the middle of the lobby before stepping out onto the streets, holding the door briefly for Kaidan to catch.

 It had stopped raining but the streets were still wet, water splashing up as cars drove by. A few homeless people sat on the steps of the apartment, and Shepard paid them no mind as they walked past and slipped into an alleyway.

 “What do you want, Kaidan?” Shepard asked over the smoke dangling from his lips. He wasn’t making eye contact and was pacing back and forth, attention mostly on the entrance to the alleyway.

 “How are you feeling?” Kaidan asked instead.

 “What do you want?” Shepard repeated. He stopped in the middle of the alleyway, smoke curling out from between his parted lips.

 Kaidan took a deep breath and straightened up. It was now or never.

 “I wanted to apologize for running,” he began, voice breathy with the quickness in which he spoke. He just needed to get it all out—now—before he burst. “I was… I was scared and I didn’t know how to handle everything that had happened. I was an idiot for not listening to you; for not preparing myself better and I’m… I’m sorry, John… I’m sorry I panicked and I’m sorry I left, and I’m sorry for not talking to you. And for shutting you out when I knew you needed me. Because I thought it was the right thing, you know? I thought maybe cutting you out would be best for us because… because I didn’t think I could be a part of your life anymore. I didn’t think I could handle it.”

 Shepard stood exactly where he’d stopped earlier. He wasn’t making a move to butt his cigarette, the ash collecting on the tip. He just stared and listened, holding Kaidan in place with his dead eyes.

 “But I… I realized that I need to be a part of your life,” Kaidan continued. “I just—I just… shit, I couldn’t justify it—any of it. The running away, the thinking this was the best for us. I thought that this would make things easier but it doesn’t. Not by a really, really long shot. I feel sick without you, John. I feel… I feel like I can’t _breathe_ without you around. I _miss_ you. And… screw it—I _love_ you, John.”

 Shepard pulled the cigarette from his mouth and threw it on to the cement, Kaidan flinching at the sudden movement.

 “Take that back,” he growled.

 Kaidan quirked a brow. “What?”

 “You don’t fucking love me, Kaidan. You were right to cut your losses and get the fuck out of here. So you take that back right fucking now.”

 Kaidan could hear the tremble in Shepard’s voice behind all the bravado and noted a flicker of hope in his eyes, like the one he’d seen earlier. Shepard wanted to hear it; he just didn’t think he deserved it.

 “I love you,” Kaidan repeated. “And I don’t care about your life or where you come from. I just want to be with you.”

 Shepard shook his head. “No, Kaidan, you do care. You _should_ care. I’m a fucking piece of shit, Kaidan. I’m a worthless gang-banger. I’m everything your father fucking warned you about, so fuck off. Go live your life and get the fuck out of here before this place eats away at you like it did me. Don’t come around here anymore.”

 “Then come with me,” Kaidan said. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but then again, nothing ever did.

 But that didn’t mean Kaidan was just going to give up like Shepard wanted him to. He knew he wanted to scare him—knew that Shepard thought he was doing the right thing by trying to get him to leave. But Kaidan couldn’t do that; he couldn’t just leave. Not when he knew Shepard felt the same way about him.

Shepard breathed hard through his nose, jaw clenching tight. Shaking his head he turned around and ducked his head. Kaidan watched patiently, hands at his sides in tight fists. Suddenly Shepard turned back around and ripped open his jacket before pulling up his shirt, exposing his stomach and a long, thin scar that ran across it.

 “You see this scar?” he asked.

 Kaidan nodded. He’d marvelled at it before—kissed it and loved it, even.

 “I got this after a customer had finally had enough of being abused. I beat him relentlessly for drug money until one day he fought back. He almost killed me, Kaidan. And for fucking what? Twenty bucks and a packet of coke.”

 He dropped his shirt and surged forward, getting up close in Kaidan’s space. “This is my life, Kaidan. It isn’t romantic; it isn’t some fairy tale where you kiss me and suddenly I’m free from this cesspit. I’m a lifer—I’m going to bleed out on these streets and I don’t want you to be there when it happens. There isn’t a happy ending in this for you.”

 Kaidan swallowed back the emotion in his throat but stood his ground. Shepard was so close he could smell the smoke on him and feel his breath against his lips.

 “You do some bad stuff, I get it,” Kaidan mumbled, “but this isn’t who you are. I know the real John. He’s a guy desperate to have a better life; to have a future. You say you’re going to die on these streets? Yeah, maybe you will if you just give up. But you’re not a quitter, John. I know you want out—you want a better life. And I want to be a part of that better life.”

 Shepard clenched his jaw and looked away. They were so close and yet Kaidan felt miles apart from him, unable to tell what he was feeling. But he had to stay where he was—he had to keep fucking _trying_. He wasn’t going to walk away from Shepard again.

 Finally Shepard looked back up at him, eyes hard in an attempt to mask the tremble in his body and the vulnerability in his posture.

 “I need you to walk away from this, Kaidan, because I can’t,” Shepard said quietly.

 Kaidan shook his head. “You know I can’t do that, John. Not again.”

 Shepard let out a low hiss and stepped back from Kaidan, leaving Kaidan feeling very cold.

_Please just come back with me. Please just give in to what you want and not what others expect of you. You deserve this._

“This isn’t something you have to fight like everything else in your life,” Kaidan said. “If you want to be with me you can just _take_ it. Just… just be selfish for once.”

 Shepard didn’t say anything. He just stood in the middle of the grimy alleyway, shoulders hunched and head bowed like a man who took on too much too young.

 It would have been so easy to walk away again if he really wanted to—if he truly believed Shepard didn’t want this. But Kaidan knew better. He had to try at least one last time.

 “Tell me you don’t want this—you don’t want _me_ —and I’ll leave,” Kaidan said. Shepard looked up at him then, and Kaidan found the strength to continue when he saw the hopefulness in Shepard’s eyes. “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll walk away like you asked. But I need you to look me in the eyes when you say it.”

 Shepard straightened and faced Kaidan. There was a gust of wind and Kaidan braced himself against it, rain following shortly after in heavy, fat drops. Still they stood facing each other, neither saying anything, even as the rain came down harder and Kaidan’s heart beat its way up into the back of his throat.

 It was a gamble—an all or nothing deal he’d just struck with the most unpredictable, stubborn person he knew.

 And when Shepard opened his mouth to speak, Kaidan hoped he hadn’t just rolled snake eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I usually hate writing cliffhangers, and I hate reading them even more, BUT HEAR ME OUT. The next chapter has already been written meaning this story is in no way going to end with cliffhanger hell. Also-- I wanted Shepard's POV during this whole debacle, and thus... we have a cliffhanger. Please don't hate me!
> 
> Thanks to Annaraven for her wonderful beta work! And a big thanks to you guys for all your support and excitement! I'm so, so, so happy you're all enjoying the story~


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan and Shepard finally resolve one conflict. Too bad their lives aren't so clear-cut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit sexual situations

 Whenever anyone walked out of Shepard’s life they never came back. A rough falling out, prison time, death—these things tended to keep a guy from doing the awkward and inconvenient thing of making Shepard confront his feelings. If they just left and stayed gone, then there was no need to figure anything out except how to move on.

But Kaidan had a way of making everything in Shepard’s life that much more complicated. He refused to play by Shepard’s rules, and had wedged himself so far into his life that when he saw him walk into his room his first thought wasn’t ‘fuck off’ or even ‘I’ll kill you’, it was simply an overwhelming sense of relief.

 And then Kaidan had to go and say everything Shepard had both wanted and dreaded to hear from him.

 He wanted to get back together, he wanted to be a part of Shepard’s fucked up, dangerous life, and he wanted to help him get _out_ —out of the fucked up world he was in, out of the literal dead end he was facing, out from all the pain and suffering and hopelessness of the streets.

 And if that wasn’t bad enough, Kaidan had said he loved him.

 And Shepard believed him when he said it; because Shepard had that same terrified look to him whenever he thought about how fucking head over heels he was for Kaidan. That same desperate, trembling tone whenever he said it aloud, like it was both a curse and a blessing.

  “Tell me you don’t want this—you don’t want _me_ —and I’ll leave. Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll walk away like you asked. But I need you to look me in the eyes when you say it.”

 Shepard tried to stare Kaidan down—tried to get him to back off and just leave. Kaidan had done the right thing running weeks ago, but now he was back and Shepard’s resolve was breaking. He wanted nothing more than to just give in—be the selfish person Kaidan wanted him to be. This would only end in heartbreak and they both knew this. There was no goddamn happy ending for Shepard.

 But there could be for Kaidan if he just _fucking left_.

 “Tell me you don’t love me,” Kaidan repeated.

 The rain was coming down heavier; fat, thick globs that slipped down Shepard’s spine and soaked through his boots. Still he stood, working his jaw back and forth, breathing hard through his nose hoping against hope that Kaidan would find the strength to just walk away—for both their sakes.

 But he didn’t. He stayed where he was, soaked to the bone but with a fire in his gaze. A challenge.

_Just be selfish for once. Take what you know you can have and enjoy it. Guys like Kaidan come around once in a lifetime and for some fucked up reason he’s into you._

 “You know you’re being really unfair, right?” Shepard growled out.

 Kaidan shrugged. “Yeah, I know. I don’t really care, though.”

 Shepard chuckled mirthlessly. Of course he didn’t because he wasn’t the one who would lose everything in this gamble. Shepard’s ‘family’, his status, his livelihood—maybe even his life—were all on the line.

 Kaidan just had to worry about disagreeing with his father, and making a few of his well-to-do country club friends feel awkward in his presence.

 Shepard cringed. He knew that wasn’t true even as he thought it. Kaidan was potentially giving up his future—and for what?

 For him. All for Shepard.

 Shepard took a step closer and Kaidan moved then, hand twitching as if to reach out to him. He could see the excitement in his eyes—dark brown bright with the knowledge that he’d won; he’d gone and tamed the wild beast that was Shepard. And Shepard really didn’t care. Fuck everything—fuck Aria, fuck Omega, fuck Blood Pack and the cops, and fuck the streets of Vancouver. Shepard was going to be selfish and take what was being freely given; no begging for it, no degrading himself for it, just taking something from someone who was his equal.

 Wrapping his hand around the back of Kaidan’s neck he pulled him in. Kaidan immediately reacted, hands grabbing his soaked shirt and tugging him forward the rest of the way, bunching up the fabric as their lips finally met.

 The kiss was uncomfortable, teeth bumping and lips pressing hard, but they were both so desperate for the contact that neither pulled away. Trailing his hands up, Shepard dragged his fingers through Kaidan’s hair, eyes closing and lips parting as they slipped back into their shared rhythm with relative ease. Kaidan whimpered into the embrace and Shepard ate it up, delirious on the feeling of Kaidan once again being with him—being _his_.

 His sanity check and his escape, his release and his _freedom_.

 When they broke apart Kaidan kept Shepard close, pressing their foreheads together gently. His arms were wrapped around Shepard’s waist, hands trembling as he held on to him like he’d slip away at any moment. Shepard could feel his smile more than he could see it, and he returned it hesitantly.

 Reality was sinking in now, but it was oddly comforting. Kaidan was back and Shepard was _happy_ about it.

 “You’re f-freezing,” Shepard mumbled, his own teeth chattering slightly.

 Kaidan laughed—a deep rumble that slipped into Shepard’s gut. “Y-yeah, just a little. Can we get out of h-here?”

 “You bring your car?”

 “Don’t you h-have to stay in the Eastside?” he asked.

 Shepard shrugged and pulled away. Zipping up his coat he nodded his head to the exit of the alley before trudging out, Kaidan keeping pace with him. “Fuck it. I want to sleep at your place tonight. I’m fucking sick of my apartment.”

 Kaidan wasn’t parked far away, and Shepard could hear Kaidan sigh with relief when it became apparent his car hadn’t been stolen or vandalized. Getting into the passenger side Shepard sat down with a heavy thump, legs spreading out in front of him as he once again claimed his space in Kaidan’s life.

 The drive home was done in relative silence, both just soaking up the fact that they were next to each other once again. Shepard shot Kaidan a few glances here and there, trying to suss him out and see how he’d been. He looked healthy, but he could see bags under his normally bright eyes, and the wrinkle between his brows was still there.

 Taking the elevator up Shepard was unsurprised to find Kaidan standing closer to him than usual, hand brushing his own as they stared at the double doors side by side. Shepard wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself and Kaidan seemed just as lost. He’d never gotten back together with a guy once he’d left; never fallen in love with anyone, either. He wasn’t sure what was expected of him.

 Was it as easy as just picking up where they left off?

 He followed Kaidan down the familiar hallway, hands a bit clammy and a pinching nervousness in his chest. It felt like their first night together, both excited but also unsure, trying to suss each other out before Shepard just went for it.

 But as soon as they were in Kaidan’s apartment Shepard relaxed.

 This was a familiar space to him—a _comfortable_ space—which was a stark contrast to the first time he’d been here. He’d felt out of place and constrained then, everything so neat and clean and expensive. He wasn’t sure what he could touch or where he could go, and the quietness left him uneasy. But that had changed. Somewhere along the way, before the fight in the streets and the confessions of love, Shepard had become comfortable in Kaidan’s world. Not that he felt he _belonged_ , but he was contented so long as Kaidan was there with him.

 “I’m gonna get some towels,” Kaidan said, heading off toward the spare bedroom. Shepard stayed where he was in the middle of the hallway, hands shoved in his jean pockets, fingers cold, mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do.

  _He wanted you back in his life because of who you are. Just act like you used to—be comfortable like you used to. This doesn’t have to be hard; you’re only making it difficult by overthinking it. So fucking stop it and remember why you’re here again._

 Kaidan returned shortly and tossed Shepard a fluffy white towel, Shepard barely catching it. 

 “Thanks,” he said, and followed Kaidan into the bedroom. Shedding his shirt he began to dry himself, the car ride over only making him uncomfortably damp.

 “Next time we have a heart-to-heart can it be inside?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard looked up just in time to see Kaidan taking off his shirt, arms raised high above his head and torso stretched to reveal a body Shepard had missed a great deal. Throwing his shirt down onto the ground next to Shepard’s he also began to towel off, chest hair fluffing up with each pass.

 Shepard licked his lips but stayed where he was. He wasn’t sure he wanted sex right now; wasn’t sure what he did or _should_ want, honestly. Once again he was in the grey area, unable to navigate his way through the tangled relationship mess they’d weaved with each other. It was frustrating and more than a little maddening, but he curbed the urge to just give up and instead went with his gut instinct.

_You and Kaidan are good together—amazing together. This can be easy…_

 Undoing his belt he pulled his jeans and underpants down in one fell swoop. Kaidan had stopped drying his hair—black curls a halo above his head—and instead stared at Shepard, lips slightly parted. Acting as casually as he could with hungry eyes on him Shepard dried his legs and feet, noting Kaidan undressing the rest of the way as well out of the corner of his eye.

 Straightening, he glanced over at Kaidan as he stood before him, equally bare to the world. Dropping his towel he turned to face Kaidan, arms at his side and eyes wandering over his form, Shepard enjoying how the warm yellow light gave Kaidan’s skin a bronzed glow. Turning his attention back up, he noted Kaidan had given him the same once-over, eyes heavily lidded and fingers tapping the sides of his legs.

 Without saying anything Shepard approached Kaidan, stopping when they were only an inch apart. Kaidan smiled slightly then, his hand rising to gently cup his cheek. Leaning into his touch, Shepard held back a grimace as the pad of Kaidan’s thumb pressed against his healed cut. Placing his hands on Kaidan’s chest he fanned his fingers out across his pecs, petting the soft black hairs with an easy familiarity.  

 Kaidan collapsed into him then. Closing the distance he pulled Shepard in for a hug, arms wrapped around his shoulders and face shoved against his neck. Shepard relaxed into the embrace, eyes closing as he rested his cheek against the side of Kaidan’s head, Kaidan’s weight fully on him as he practically held him up. Breathing in his scent Shepard exhaled slowly, lips pressing a soft kiss to Kaidan’s neck.

 “I missed you so much,” Kaidan mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought I’d… damn it, I thought I’d lost you.”

  _And I thought I’d lost you._

 Shepard just held on to him harder, soaking up the feeling of Kaidan’s heated skin pressed against his own, the scent of his cologne and musk thick in his nose and throat, and the feeling of his breathy laugh against his neck.

 “I love you, K…” Shepard whispered.

 Kaidan just laughed.

XX

 “You know that’s really unhygienic.”

 Shepard looked down at the counter he was sitting on then back up at Kaidan. “This?”

 “You’re sitting on my counter bare-ass naked,” he said, smiling as he poured a thin stream of cream into his coffee. 

 Shepard shrugged and took a sip of his own black with two sugars. He couldn’t hold back a pleased groan. Fuck, Kaidan made good coffee.

 “I could go put on pants if you’d like,” he suggested, “or an apron like you’ve got on.”

 “Don’t you dare get dressed.”

 Shepard smirked over the rim of his mug.

 Kaidan went back to cooking breakfast, a jump in his step that Shepard had missed seeing. Eggs, bacon, sausages were all in the fry pans, and in the oven rested perfectly golden slices of toast. The coffee had been brewed for just the right amount of time, and Kaidan had made at least three cups each worth of the stuff.

 “This is the only reason I came back,” Shepard joked, nodding his head toward the food.

 Kaidan paused his bacon flipping and glanced over his shoulder. “Well, I mean… I don’t blame you. I make a fantastic breakfast.”

 “That you do… among other things.”

 Hopping off the counter, Shepard wandered over to the windows on the other side of the room. Enough sunlight streamed through the cloud-cover to warrant calling it a sunny day, and Shepard watched little jewels of light bounce off of the water in the harbour. It was oddly calm outside, an apt representation of how Shepard was feeling.

 They’d held each other through the night, both far too exhausted to do anything but just kiss. Shepard had fallen asleep listening to Kaidan tell a story about a Professor Mordin and an explosives demonstration in the lab. Shepard’s last memory was being lulled by the deep reverberations of Kaidan’s voice as he rested his head on his chest.

 They’d woken at roughly the same time—too early for most days but perfect for today. Again, neither made any move to fuck like they used to. Not everything was about sex anymore—or had to hide behind the pretences of sex. They were a couple now; free to just enjoy each other’s presence without the expectation of something more primal.

 Didn’t mean Shepard wasn’t looking forward to shoving his face in between Kaidan’s ass cheeks later, however.

 “Food’s up,” Kaidan said, breaking Shepard from his musings.

 Returning to the kitchen he grabbed a plate and plopped himself down on one of the stools, accepting a kiss from Kaidan as he sat down next to him, apron abandoned next to the fridge.

 “You got lab work today?” Shepard asked. Popping open the strawberry jam he coated a piece of toast with it.

 “Not on the Saturday before Reading Week.”

 “What’s a Reading Week?” he asked between mouthfuls of food. “Do you guys just sit around reading?”

 Kaidan chuckled and nodded. Chewing on a piece of bacon, he swallowed it before answering. “Yeah, basically. It’s like a… a break given to students so they can catch up on work. You know—just a little breather in the middle of term.”

 Shepard nodded. “So you’re going to be busy this week? Catching up and shit?”

 “I have to go in on Monday to hand in some results I analyzed, but after that I’m free. I spent the last two weeks throwing myself into my work after… well, you know.”

 Shepard pursed his lips but didn’t say anything. Shoving half a sausage in his mouth he took a big bite and chewed. Swallowing it down with his coffee, he brushed his fingers on the napkin and turned to Kaidan. “You wanna hang out and… I dunno… catch up?”

 Kaidan smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that… Although, don’t you have uh… work things to do?”

 Shepard sighed and rolled his head to the side, working out a kink in his neck. He swore he was developing a tick from the mere mention of his job.

 “Not for another week,” he said, “My boss put me on leave for three weeks.”

 “You get… leave from being in a gang?”

 Shepard chuckled. “Yeah, apparently you can. My boss won’t admit it, but she’s worried about my connections to some of the cops down in the Eastside. They talk to me, she sees them talking, and I get in shit for it. So she wants me to lay low for a bit while we… plan shit out.”

 Kaidan nodded. Shepard could feel his eyes on the cut, and he reached up to touch his cheek, fingers sliding across the smooth scar tissue.

 “How does it… I mean, how are you feeling? After the fight and everything?” Kaidan asked quietly.

 “It… it hurt,” Shepard began, “but Jack patched me up… nothing I haven’t dealt with before. How about you?”

 “I just had some bruised knuckles. You uh, you should have seen the other guys,” Kaidan said. His forced laugh got stuck in his throat.

 Shepard didn’t blame him. This was the proverbial elephant in the room. It was hard to laugh away something so large.

 They ate in silence for a little while after that. Shepard fiddled with his eggs, fork going in and out of the runny yolks. He could tell Kaidan wanted to pry further, but he waited for him to make the first move.

 “Are you going to fill me in with what that was all about?” Kaidan finally asked.

 Shepard sighed and placed his fork down on his plate. Resting his elbows on the counter, he hung his head and looked over at Kaidan. Kaidan was fiddling with the last of his bacon, attention fixed on Shepard—no avoidance in his gaze.

 “You sure you wanna hear about this shit? It’s not going to come up with your dad?” Shepard asked.

 “I won’t tell my father… and… yeah, I’d like to know. If I’m going to be a part of your life I think I should know about these sorts of things. In case I get dragged into it again.”

  _I’ll make sure you don’t. I don’t want you hurt… not again._

 “Yeah, alright… you deserve to know.” Grabbing his napkin he brushed it over his lips, cleaning off the bacon grease in an attempt to buy himself time. He was giving away dangerous information that could jeopardize Omega, but… Kaidan was right. He deserved to know.

 Grabbing his coffee he hopped off the stool, nodding his head toward the living room. Kaidan picked up his mug and followed. If Shepard was going to do this he didn’t want a numb ass. They sat down on the couch, Shepard on one end and Kaidan the other, both taking up their fair share of the cushions. Obviously not content with the space between them, Kaidan kicked his legs up and draped them across Shepard’s lap, coffee mug resting on his stomach.

 Shepard smiled and slid his hand up and under Kaidan’s boxers, fingers soaking in the heat of his inner thigh. He could feel the tip of Kaidan’s dick against his pinkie but made no move to change their position. Kaidan seemed more than content with Shepard’s hand placement, and his little smile made everything that much easier.

 “Don’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, yeah?”

 “I won’t tell a soul. Scouts honour.”

  _Of course you were a boy scout._

“Right… so those guys who jumped us? They’re members of this gang called ‘Blood Pack’—a low time gang for the most part. Stuck to their corner and didn’t bother us too much. Except now they figure they deserve more of the territory in the Eastside—which means kicking Omega out and pushing themselves in. Shit like this has happened before; small time gangs figure they can get more if they just play their cards right. Couple years back this gang called Eclipse figured they could take over and… well… they didn’t. But not after we lost some good guys to the fighting.”

 Kaidan hummed, brows furrowed. “I think I remember that time. Back in twenty-twelve, yeah?”

 Shepard nodded. “Your dad was probably involved.”

 “Yeah, he was. He didn’t talk much about it but he spent most nights at the precinct just trying to get a handle on it. He’d come home looking beat and… yeah. I guess that’s why.”

 Shepard took a long sip of his now lukewarm coffee. Sucking it between his teeth, he slouched further into the couch, his hand rubbing back and forth across Kaidan’s thigh. “Eclipse had guns but we never did. My boss figures they just invite trouble, you know? They cause civilian casualties, and once you get civilians involved the cops care all of a sudden. So we let the cops deal with them. Eventually their leaders got rounded up and locked away.”

 “And Blood Pack… is this the same?”

 “No,” he lied. He didn’t want to bring up the guns with Kaidan—didn’t want him to know that there would be casualties in this war. He was a cop’s son first and foremost and Shepard didn’t want to divide his loyalties. Most of all, he didn’t want to harm Kaidan’s integrity by asking him to keep quiet on such a serious matter.

 Kaidan turned his head and stared at the wall. Shepard just drank his coffee, content to let it drop. Kaidan obviously wasn’t, however.

 “So is this going to be another gang war?” Kaidan asked, turning back to Shepard.

 Shepard shrugged. “Maybe. Don’t know for sure. But they’re looking to take our territory and… that’s what the whole fight was about. The first shot, I guess you could say.”

 Kaidan frowned, and Shepard looked away from his gaze.

 “John… this is a really serious matter.”

 “Yeah, I fucking know that. Which is why you should have stayed away.”

 “Well I didn’t,” Kaidan said quickly. He sat up and placed his coffee mug down on the table. Scooting closer, he cupped Shepard’s chin and made him look at him. “Promise me you’ll be careful?”

 Shepard had honestly expected a speech from Kaidan, or a plea asking him to stay out of it. Instead he just asked for Shepard to be careful and stay safe…

 “You’re pretty incredible, you know that?”

 “Don’t, John… don’t think this is me condoning what you’re doing, because I don’t. Not in the slightest.”

 And here came the speech.

 “But I know I can’t talk you out of it even though I’m pretty damn sure you wish it could be that simple. I don’t support your gang or your boss, or anyone involved in this shit… except for you. I support _you_ , John. So… be careful, and if you can act with some… _integrity_ —for me—I’d appreciate it.”

 Shepard listened carefully. He knew Kaidan didn’t support his ‘job’ and honestly, Shepard didn’t want him to. He wished he could just walk away from it all and leave the gangs to take each other out, but he knew he couldn’t. You couldn’t walk away from that, not unless you were prepared to pay the blood price.

 “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll try,” he finally said, gaze flicking down.

 Kaidan sighed and nodded. “Guess that’s all I can ask of you.”

 Shepard nodded and pulled away from Kaidan’s hand. Putting his mug down on the table, he leaned back and rested his head against the cushions of the couch, legs kicked out in front of him.

 “So… I guess that was ‘the talk’, eh?” he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. “Now you know what it was all about, and what shit you’ve gotten yourself into.”

 “Yeah, I guess that was it,” Kaidan agreed. “But I think it was… it was good to clear the air, you know? I feel better knowing this stuff.”

 “You sure about that?” Shepard asked. “I mean, you could still kick me out. We haven’t fucked yet so I guess the relationship isn’t official.”

 Kaidan chuckled and nuzzled his nose against Shepard’s neck. “I’m pretty certain I’m not about to kick you out.”

 “Yeah?” Shepard closed his eyes and breathed deeply as Kaidan’s lips pressed against his neck and his hand slid across his stomach.

 “Yeah…”

 Shepard smiled as Kaidan kissed up his neck and across his jaw, finishing at the corner of his mouth. Opening his eyes he turned his head to the side, locking eyes with Kaidan’s. They could go overthink their choices and worry about their lives, or they could take what they wanted and slip back into the easy intimacy they’d enjoyed before.

 Shepard was pretty certain he knew what he wanted, and judging by Kaidan’s wandering hand he wanted it as well. He knew their conversations about Shepard’s life were far from over, but for now…

 “Keep this up and we’re going to be fucking on your living room floor,” Shepard mumbled into the multiple slow kisses Kaidan seemed intent on giving him.

 “You got a problem with that?” Kaidan asked, voice already low with desire. Shepard’s cock twitched as Kaidan’s hand drifted lower, and he licked his bottom lip remembering the sight of Kaidan’s soft dick peeking out from his boxer leg.

 “Fuck my mouth?” Shepard asked, catching Kaidan’s bottom lip between his teeth.

 Kaidan groaned and straddled Shepard’s lap in one smooth motion. “I see you haven’t lost your sense of romance.”

 Shepard shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading out across his lips. “I like what I like—and right now I want to taste you. It’s been two weeks, K… indulge me?”

 Kaidan kissed him deeply then, hands cupping his cheeks and keeping him in place. Wrapping his arms around Kaidan’s back, Shepard traced the dips and bumps of his spine before grabbing two large handfuls of his ass, squeezing hard.

 Kaidan gasped into the action and kissed Shepard harder, tongue delving into his mouth to rub against his own. Kaidan tasted of marmalade and coffee—an odd combination—but Shepard didn’t mind. He was too focused on how he felt—from the softness of his skin to the rub of stubble against his chin; the flex of his ass under his hands and the press of his chest against his own.

 And then Kaidan sat down and Shepard couldn’t help but let out a moan of his own, the friction so fucking good.

 “It’s been too long,” Shepard said between messy kisses. “Too. Fucking. Long.”

 Kaidan laughed and sat back, covered ass rubbing back and forth across Shepard’s exposed erection. “It’s been two weeks— you didn’t jerk off at any point?”

 “Yeah, but that’s not as good as the real thing.”

 “Sometimes it can be,” Kaidan said, “I’ll show you some good techniques later.”

 Shepard didn’t have time to fantasize about Kaidan masturbating, because in reality Kaidan was standing and stripping, boxers flying across the room to expose his thick cock. It was already half-hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum and red with arousal, and Shepard couldn’t resist dropping down on his knees before him. Kaidan backed up a little to give him some room, but Shepard stayed pressed in close, knees digging into the carpet as he eyed his prize.

 Reaching out he gripped Kaidan’s cock and began stroking it, grinning as he looked up to see Kaidan staring down at him with cloudy eyes, his fingers playing with his nipple. Dropping his hand to his own cock, Shepard began to stroke it as he ducked his head and caught the tip of Kaidan in his mouth.

 Sucking on the head he closed his eyes and enjoyed the heavy sensation of having Kaidan’s cock on his tongue once more, and the almost sweet but still salty taste of his pre-cum. Kaidan’s hands dropped to cup the back of his head, rubbing the short bristles of his hair and massaging the back of his neck. Kaidan was moaning with each downward swipe of Shepard’s tongue, head lolling back as Shepard inched further and further down.

 Jerking himself without reserve, Shepard rolled his balls with one hand and twisted his wrist up at the top with the other, moaning softly as Kaidan began to take charge by thrusting gently into his mouth. Opening his eyes he looked up at Kaidan, urging him to go further.

 But Kaidan pulled back, cock slipping from his mouth. Shepard let out a breath of air he’d been holding, Kaidan chuckling as he looked down at him.

 “You gotta come up for air at least once, John.”

 Shepard shrugged and ducked down to press a kiss against the base of his cock before going lower to tongue his balls.

 “I can go down for longer,” he mumbled, lifting his head to kiss the point where groin met thigh.

 Letting go of his own dick he gripped Kaidan’s hips and went back down, Kaidan almost falling over as he took him all in. Holding him in his throat for a beat, Shepard pulled back, releasing his cock with a pop.

“Shit,” Kaidan mumbled. Bracing his foot on the edge of the couch next to Shepard, he fed him his dick, watching with heavy lidded eyes as Shepard’s full lips took him in nice and slow.

 They repeated the action for some time, Shepard’s cock bouncing with eagerness while his hands wandered all over Kaidan’s thighs and stomach. Finally it became too much for them both, and Shepard pulled away just as Kaidan sat, his ass almost hitting the coffee table on the way down.

 “Careful—” Shepard said, but was interrupted by Kaidan kissing him hard, teeth biting and lips rubbing. Running his hands through Kaidan’s hair, Shepard swallowed Kaidan’s pants and moans, eyes closing as Kaidan ground down.

 They collapsed onto the floor between the couch and the table, Shepard almost bashing his elbow in the process. Kaidan asked if he was okay but Shepard shut him up with another kiss. He was desperate for Kaidan—for all of him. It had been so long and he’d never thought he’d have this chance again—to be so close to him, to hear his breathy moans and feel him hard and needy and so fucking desperate.

 He wasn’t going to take it for granted.

 Tangling their legs together Shepard reached down and gripped Kaidan’s ass, holding on to him for dear life as they rutted on the carpet. He was going to have major rug-burn in the next hour but Shepard honestly didn’t give a fuck.

 Kaidan had given up trying to keep their kiss going and instead rested his cheek against Shepard’s, his breathing hot and fast against Shepard’s ear. Closing his eyes Shepard continued to knead Kaidan’s ass, grunting as his cock rubbed against Kaidan’s own.

 He was so fucking close, groin tingling and body shaking as he neared the edge. He just needed that extra little…

 “John.” Kaidan’s whiskey smooth voice, so desperate and deep and right against his ear, sent Shepard over the edge.

 Holding on to Kaidan Shepard kissed him deeply, Kaidan’s body rocking frantically up above as he too tumbled over the edge, a deep moan ripping through their kiss. Opening his eyes as Kaidan came to the end, Shepard admired Kaidan as he rode through his orgasm, lips parted and brows furrowed, a look of pure concentration and relief washing across his features.

 Coming down from their orgasms, Shepard cupped Kaidan’s cheek and accepted a slow, lazy kiss before Kaidan collapsed fully on top of him, face pressed into the carpet next to him.

 “Fuck,” Shepard mumbled, body sated and mind at ease.

 Kaidan chuckled and mumbled an agreement. They stayed lying on the floor for a short time, both too relaxed to move. But soon enough Kaidan’s weight became too much, and Shepard tapped his waist to get him to move. Rising with some reluctance, Kaidan tumbled onto the couch while Shepard remained lying on the floor, stomach and chesty sticky with their spent seed.

 Kaidan lay down on the couch, cheek pressed against the cushions as he looked down at Shepard.

 “Hey,” he mumbled, hand dropping down to rub Shepard’s shoulder.

 “Hey,” Shepard repeated.

 “Guess I’m in it for good now that we’ve consummated it, eh?”

 Shepard chuckled and stretched his arms above his head, back popping. “Yeah, I guess so.”

 And just like that the awkwardness was gone. Shepard was once again reminded of how _simple_ things could be with Kaidan if they both just stopped overthinking.

 Kaidan stilled then, and Shepard watched as his eyes wandered over his features, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“What?” he mumbled.

 “We should get away for a week.”

 Shepard quirked a brow and sat up with a grunt. “Yeah? Like where?”

 He’d never been outside of British Columbia—never really seen much outside the walls of the city, either. But that wasn’t through lack of interest; far from it. He wanted to see the world.

Or just Canada, given his record.

 And to see it with Kaidan…

 “I dunno… how about Banff?”

 “That place in the mountains?”

 “Yeah—we could fly into Calgary and drive up there. Spend a week at their fancy hotel, eat sugary tourist crap, and hang out in the hot springs…”

 “Fuck on expensive sheets with a mountain view in the background?”

 Kaidan grinned. “Exactly… so what do you say?”

 Shepard had obligations and expectations, and he knew that if he asked Aria would never let him go. But the way Kaidan was smiling with excitement, cheeks pink and hair a mess, eyes still hazy with afterglow…

 Shepard hadn’t been able to say no when Kaidan suggested they meet again after their first fuck, hadn’t been able to say no to dating, and hadn’t been able to say no to getting back together. He was realizing very quickly that when it came to Kaidan, no just wasn’t in his vocabulary.

 “Yeah… yeah, I say let’s do it,” Shepard said, and leaned over to seal the deal with a kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a big thank you to everyone who is reading/commenting/giving kudos. Your support is welcome and appreciated in whichever form it arrives in. I'm just so happy you're all enjoying this story!
> 
> Special thanks to Annaraven for helping me put this story 'on to' the internet ;) Check out her stuff-- it's great!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of sex
> 
> A little treat for you guys after everything I put you through the last few chapters :)

 “So… a romantic getaway to the mountains, eh? You sure know how to treat a guy, Alenko.”

 “I figured we deserve it,” Kaidan said, watching as Ashley repositioned her feet on the leg press before beginning a new round of reps.

 He’d kept up with her for most of their workout but she finally had him beat with the leg press, her years of playing soccer in the summer and hockey in the winter making Kaidan’s legs look like twigs next to hers. Kaidan had her beat with upper-body strength, however, and he was going to gloat about it for as long as he could. It was only fair, really, considering she’d kicked his ass so many times before that he’d lost count.

 “When are you off?” she asked.

 “Uh… I’m picking John up in two hours and we’re headed off to the airport right after,” he replied, unable to hide his grin.

 “You really sure about this? I mean, your relationship with this Shepard guy?” She was breathing evenly through her nose, attention half on the lift and half on Kaidan as he sat next to his abandoned machine. His legs burned just watching her go for another set.

 Kaidan nodded, brushing back a strand of hair from his forehead. “Damn sure. I already took things for granted once before—I’m sure of things now.”

 “That’s good. I’m just wondering if you’ve thought this through entirely, though,” she said, shooting Kaidan a look.

 He shrugged it off and sat back against the machine. In the distance joggers, runners, and tired walkers used the treadmills that made up the majority of the gym, ponytails bouncing and neon bright workout wear catching Kaidan’s eye for a moment.

 “How do you mean?” he asked.

 “Well… he’s a criminal for a start,” she said, grunting between her words, “and your dad’s a cop, so how are you going to introduce him to your parents?”

 “Carefully,” he replied. Taking a deep swig of his water, he dropped the cap and dangled the bottle between his knees. “My mum will be easy—she doesn’t pry like my dad does. And when my dad asks about what Shepard does I’ll just tell him part truths.”

 “And those are?”

 “That he works as a bouncer for a club—which he does.”

 Ashley grunted again before shoving the lift all the way to the top, locking it in place. Sitting up she swung her legs around and grabbed her bottle. Taking a long drink, she kept her eyes on him the entire way until the water was gone.

 Brushing the back of her hand against her mouth, she sighed loudly and kicked her feet out. “And the fact that he runs in a gang doesn’t bother you?”

 “Yeah, it does,” he said, frowning. “It bothers me that he feels as if his only option in life was to join a gang, and it bothers me that he thinks he’s not good enough to be anything but what he is. But… I want to be there to support him, you know, when he finally decides to leave. Because I know that’s not who he is. So I’m willing to wait and just… see how things go. I don’t like it, but I like him. A lot. You know?”

 Kaidan had thought a lot about Shepard’s position once they’d gotten back together, and the flush of just having him in his arms once more had waned slightly. He wasn’t comfortable with Shepard’s life, but he knew Shepard wasn’t, either. As much as he tried to convince Kaidan otherwise, Shepard was sick of the criminal world and what he had to do on a regular basis.

 So long as Shepard wanted to live a better life, Kaidan could look the other way with a locked jaw and a disapproving stare. And Kaidan figured if he pressed enough and gently suggested Shepard seek his high school diploma and get a real, solid job, maybe one day— _one_ _day_ —he’d listen.

 Kaidan loved Shepard—that was the easy thing to deal with. Now it was a matter of dealing with everything that came with that love, including having to lie to his parents about what his boyfriend did for a living.

 Ashley’s mouth twisted, but Kaidan saw no judgement in her gaze. “I dunno, Kaidan… I mean, I had trouble getting over the fact that my last boyfriend was an Alouettes fan. But this? This is pretty crazy.”

 “Yeah, I know,” he said. Obviously his tone was a bit pointed because Ashley’s features softened.

 “Sorry, I’m just worrying about you for no reason. Shepard seems like a good guy. Not entirely respectable or anything, but… hey, he’s hot, right?”

 Kaidan chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, he’s definitely hot.”

 He was looking forward to reacquainting himself with just how hot Shepard was this week when they went on their wild sex bender.

 “You should bring him around more. I mean, now that he’s part of your life we’d like to see you both at tapas night,” Ashley suggested. Kaidan could pick out a hint of loneliness in the way she said it—like she was afraid Kaidan was going to become the aloof enigma he’d been before when he first started up with Shepard.

 “Yeah, for sure. I’m not sure how well he’d do with tapas, but I’ll tell him about it. And maybe he can come work out with us sometime?”

 Ashley grinned. “Sounds good. I’ll get to kick his ass _and_ get him to reveal all your dirty little secrets. It’s a win/win situation for me.”

 “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he said, standing with a grunt. Cleaning off the machine, he followed Ashley to the locker rooms,. “He’s got a pretty big competitive streak, and he won’t go easy on you just because you’re my friend.”

 “I am counting on it,” she replied. “And just because he’s your partner doesn’t mean I’m going easy on him, either. I gotta know he’s good enough for you.”

 “So you’re challenging him to a fight, basically? For my honour?” He chuckled. Of course she would.

 Ashley shrugged as she pulled her hair out of its bun and shook it free. Turning she headed to the woman’s washroom, but paused in the middle of the doorway. Holding the door open with her body she looked over at Kaidan and stopped him with a gentle ‘hey’.

 “Yeah?” he asked, brow quirked.

 “I’m just… I’m glad you’re happy, Kaidan. You deserve it,” she said, and he caught the hint of a blush on her already pink cheeks.

 “Thanks,” he said.

 Yeah, telling his friends about Shepard—all about Shepard—had been a liberating idea.

XX

  Shepard had never flown before. Kaidan would have been able to figure that out even if Shepard hadn’t told him beforehand.

 He was reading through the emergency manual, twisting around in his chair to find all of the exits before the flight attendants even had time to point them out. He was holding on to the laminated cardboard like it was his bible, jaw tight with tension.

 It was kind of cute.

 Kind of unnerving, too.

 “You don’t have to memorize the whole layout of the plane, John,” Kaidan said, turning his mobile off. Shoving it in his back pocket, he reached out and plucked the manual from his hands and flipped it over to see instructions on how to use the life jacket. “We’re not even going over large bodies of water.”

 Shepard glowered and shifted in his seat, tugging at the seatbelt. “Yeah, you say that now but just wait—we’re going to crash into a lake and you’ll die because you didn’t learn how to use the life jacket.”

 He looked over at Kaidan, a smug expression on his face. “Then you’ll be sorry.”

 Kaidan rolled his eyes and shoved the manual in the front pocket of the chair. There were only ten other passengers on the plane, their flight late enough to avoid the morning business crowd, and early enough to avoid those going home after a week of absence. And it seemed Shepard was the only ‘new’ flier.

 “I didn’t think you’d be nervous about flying,” he said.

 Shepard shrugged and ran his hand over his head, rubbing the short bristles. “I’m not nervous—I just don’t know what to expect. Sets me on edge.”

  _That’s nerves._

 “You’ll be fine once we get up into the air. The views are going to be spectacular if the clouds aren’t too thick.”

 Shepard looked out the window at the tarmac then back to Kaidan. “Yeah?”

 He nodded and took Shepard’s hand in his own. Shepard visibly relaxed then, tension in his jaw replaced with a small smile that only grew when Kaidan brought his hand up to his mouth and gave it a gentle kiss.

 “Think of it as if you’re finally going up into space. We’re not quite there, but close enough,” he said, kissing his hand again. “Your kid self would be so jealous right now.”

 Shepard chuckled and returned the kiss. Pulling away as soon as a flight attendant walked by to close the overhead hatch, he watched the woman with a critical eye.

 “They’re all so fucking cheery,” he said, refusing to return the smile of the flight attendant when she noticed him staring. “I’m not used to like… I dunno.”

 “People being nice?”

 “Customer service.”

 Kaidan laughed and settled in his chair. “Gotcha.”

 “Do you fly often?” Shepard asked, attention returning to the pamphlets in front of him. He pulled out an old magazine on Western Canadian tourism, flipping through it with little to no actual interest.

 “Fairly often. I usually go on one vacation a year somewhere outside of Vancouver.”

 “Yeah? Favourite place?”

 “Damn… I don’t know… I liked England… Japan was pretty cool, but really crowded. Maybe Germany?”

 Shepard dropped his magazine onto his lap. “Really? It’s not just sausage and cabbage?”

 “No, definitely not,” he said, chuckling. “It’s a place rich with history—medieval and art history, war and social history. You go to Berlin and you can feel that the city is alive, you know? It’s had so much happen within its borders, and when you walk down the streets alongside where the Wall used to be, and you see the bullet holes in the buildings from the siege of Berlin… it’s pretty incredible.”

 “Sounds amazing,” Shepard said, smiling softly. The magazine was abandoned. “I didn’t know you were such a history buff.”

 “I appreciate it, but I’m not an expert by any stretch of the imagination.”

 “Are you going to give me history lessons on our trip? Teach me all about mountains and lumberjacks and shit?”

 “You mean we aren’t just going to spend the entire time in our hotel room?”

 Shepard grinned his infamous shark grin—bright and uninhibited—and moved in for a slow, easy kiss, one that Kaidan returned with enthusiasm, even as the plane began to shudder its way onto the runway.  

 “Teach me in between the fucking and sucking,” Shepard mumbled when they broke away. He didn’t even seem to mind that the flight attendants were telling him how to properly evacuate the plane, nor did he seem nervous about the gentle wobble of the wings and the rumble of the engine as they taxied onto the runway. Instead he was completely focused on Kaidan, bright blue eyes roaming over his features, a hunger behind his gaze.

 “I could probably even teach you things during the fucking and sucking,” Kaidan replied, dropping his hand down to Shepard’s knee.

 “History Professor Alenko will now be taking questions, hm?” Shepard asked.

 They kissed again, slow and easy and chaste, and Kaidan kept it going until they were up in the air and free from turbulence. When they broke apart, however, Kaidan lost Shepard’s attention to the window next to him. Shepard spent the next hour staring out, admiring the world from a new perspective—a clean, free, and liberating one.

 And all the while Kaidan admired his own liberation.

XX

The Banff Springs Hotel was a castle.

 Nestled in the Rocky Mountains, the hotel sprouted up from the thick forest and looked down at the small tourist town that had been built around it. Mountains steel in colour and capped with pure white snow surrounded the town and the hotel, with frozen waterfalls tumbling down their steeped sides and trees dotting the perimeter. Wildlife congregated in the nearby area, clueless tourists coaxing them forward with treats and flashing cameras, and you couldn’t take a step without hearing someone wishing to see a grizzly bear.

 The town was tourist central, shops catering to all things ‘Canadian’ dotting the main strip. Cheap trinkets like fake dreamcatchers, ‘I Heart Alberta’ t-shirts, and stuffed animals dressed in Mountie clothes lined the shelves, and in one particular store lay the ‘remains’ of a fossilized merman discovered in the area in the late thirties.

 But the hotel was something different. Kaidan had spent a few holidays with his parents in the hotel, the three taking in the festive season surrounded by the high stone walls and ornate carvings, snow covered mountains and fresh made hot chocolate with sprigs of mint. Kaidan remembered being told ghost stories as a child, and had spent his fair share of time looking for the bride on the staircase.

 It held good memories for Kaidan, and he hoped soon it would for Shepard.

 As it stood, he seemed a little out of place.

 There was a line for check-in and Kaidan watched Shepard out of the corner of his eye. He was hanging close to Kaidan—closer than usual—hands wrapped around the handles of his bag, bouncing it up and down gently. He kept eyeing the harpist in the corner selling her CD, and Kaidan caught him looking down at his own shoes and then those of the other guests as they walked by, their entire manner speaking of old money.

 “They’ve got a hot spring we can relax in,” Kaidan said, trying to distract Shepard from his rather obvious ‘I don’t belong here’ train of thought, “and a really great buffet on the weekend.”

 Shepard turned to him, brow quirked. “A buffet, eh?”

 “All you can eat. I made a reservation for Saturday.”

 “Sweet.”

 He pulled his phone out and began scrolling through it, brows slightly furrowed. Kaidan returned to his as well, informing his mum they’d made it to Banff with little to no issue (save for the horrific traffic leaving Calgary). She knew he was going on a trip with a ‘friend’, but beyond that she was still in the dark about Shepard and all the finer details.

 He was going to tell her, he just had to pick the right moment. He’d introduced other romances to his parents before, but they’d never been _Shepard_. They’d never been the _one_.

 And they also had never been a drug dealer.

 Small details like that needed careful planning, and Kaidan was nothing if not a planner.

 Finally it was their turn, and Kaidan nudged Shepard along with him to the front desk, his suitcase rolling gently behind them. Propping it up next to him, he shot the clerk a smile and stated his name; all the while Shepard hung back like some on-edge bodyguard.

_Hopefully he’ll calm down once we’re alone._

 “Mr. Alenko…” the woman mumbled as she scrolled through her computer. Her expression changed from polite to excited in a few seconds, and she looked up at the two of them with a big grin. “Congratulations on the marriage.”

 Kaidan felt the colour drain from his face, and he blinked a few times, hoping he’d just imagined things. He hadn’t. She was still looking at him like he’d just gotten hitched.

 “Uh… sorry?”

 “You booked a junior suite in one of the turrets and asked for roses and wine to be delivered later on. It’s typically our honeymoon suite,” she explained, her expression softening slightly.

_Oh shit._

 He’d been so determined to book the nicest, most romantic room he could find so as to pamper the crap out of Shepard, that he hadn’t really looked to see what he was booking beyond the photographs included. He’d never stopped to think about what such a romantic room might mean.

 He didn’t want to turn around and see Shepard’s expression. He felt like a total creep. This was definitely overstepping their still fresh relationship by insinuating this was a honeymoon, and although Kaidan would probably look back on it and laugh, he wasn’t laughing now.

 But someone was.

 Shepard sidled up next to Kaidan, arms crossed on top of the counter as he tried his best to hide his laughter. He shot Kaidan a wink before nodding at the clerk. “Sorry—my _husband_ has been up for about three days straight. He’s a bit tired.”

 She smiled then and laughed, nodding. “I completely understand. I get that way too after a super long shift. In any event, are the records correct with your booking?”

 Shepard found this funny.

 Shepard was laughing and playing along.

 Shepard had just called him his husband.

 It… it kinda sounded good.

 “Uh, y-yeah, that sounds like the one,” he said, ignoring Shepard’s continuous eyebrow waggle.

 The clerk clicked away on her computer for a second before grabbing a sheet from the printer down below. Placing the paper with a pen down on the counter, she instructed them to fill out the required areas with their names and contact information—just in case they tried to bug out on the bill, no doubt.

 Kaidan filled his out, still feeling the burn of embarrassment on his cheeks. Passing it to Shepard, he watched him fill it out and noted how he signed his last name.

 ‘Shepard-Alenko’.

 He started grinning again, and didn’t even hide it when Shepard looked over at him.

 “You’re ridiculous,” he said as they left the desk with key-cards in hand.

 “You’re the one that married me,” Shepard replied as they stepped into the elevator.

 “You understand this was a complete mistake, right? I don’t want you thinking I planned this or anything,” Kaidan explained.

 “I get it, K,” he said, standing in front of Kaidan in the elevator.

 “I’m sorry if that was… weird.”

 Shepard chuckled and bumped their hips together gently. “Stop apologizing. It’s fine—really. Besides… could be kind of fun pretending to be married all week. Maybe the hotel will give us free shit because they think we’re newlyweds.”

 Kaidan chuckled and wrapped his arms around Shepard’s waist, tugging him in close as they neared their floor. At least Shepard was no longer self-conscious about his class status and the extreme luxury of the hotel.

 “Maybe free champagne,” he suggested.

 “Never had champagne before,” Shepard said. He kissed Kaidan quickly before grabbing his duffle bag and hefting it over his shoulder. As if on cue the elevator doors swung open and Shepard held the door for Kaidan, nodding his head to the side.

 “After you, Mr. Shepard-Alenko.”

 Kaidan rolled his eyes but stepped through anyways. “You’re not going to take my last name in full?”

 “Nah—I can’t lose Shepard entirely. Everyone knows me as that.”

 “True,” he mumbled as he swiped his card through the reader. “I don’t think I could pull off your last name with as much swagger as you do.”

 Stepping into the room, Kaidan tossed his mini suitcase on the luggage rack near the door and kicked off his shoes. Stretching his arms above his head, he wandered into the living space, grinning as Shepard let out a low whistle behind him.

 “Holy shit…” Shepard mumbled, coming up behind Kaidan. The living room was somewhat small, a couch, a chair, and a large TV taking up much of the space, but the view was what caught both their eyes. Large clean windows looking out over the mountain landscape, green from the trees mixing with the steel blue mountains and occasional smattering of snow that had survived the unseasonably warm winter. The sky up above was completely cloud free, bright blue stretching across the entire expanse, not a raindrop in sight.

 Kaidan turned around to see Shepard’s mouth slightly slack, eyes wide as he looked out across the landscape.

 “Impressive, hm?”

 Shepard just snorted and approached the window, taking everything in with greedy eyes. Kaidan stepped off to the side and gave Shepard his space, itching to grab his phone to take a picture of Shepard looking so…

 Innocent.

 But he refrained, choosing to appreciate the moment as it was.

 “It’s so… isolated,” Shepard mumbled. “Like, I know we’re in the middle of a town but… here it’s like we’re all alone, you know? No hint of civilization for fucking ever…” He turned around and grinned at Kaidan. “Like it’s just you and me and the sky up above.”

 Kaidan cupped the back of Shepard’s neck and pulled him in for a fierce kiss. Shepard gripped the collar of his shirt and returned the embrace with equal intensity, fingers bunching up the fabric and wrinkling it. Tilting his head to the side, Kaidan deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into Shepard’s eager mouth, the two sharing in a gasp as their tongues rubbed.

 They pulled apart slowly, Kaidan’s eyes still closed as Shepard nuzzled their noses together. He could feel the tension in Shepard’s shoulders ebb away, and there was a calmness to his aura that Kaidan hadn’t felt before.

 Ever.

 “Thanks,” Shepard mumbled.

 “For what?”

 “Taking me someplace I can breathe for a little while,” he said with a mirthless chuckle.

 Kaidan opened his eyes and kissed Shepard quickly. “Not a problem—pleasure’s all mine.”

 Shepard grinned, bottom lip tucked between his teeth giving him almost a childlike expression of excitement. “Can we go check out the bedroom?”

 “Up the stairs,” Kaidan said, stepping out of the way.

 Shepard grinned and kissed him again—passionate and all too brief—before bounding up the twisting stairs. He let out a loud hoot at the top, and Kaidan followed with his suitcase in hand. Shepard was kneeling on the bed when he arrived, attention once again out the big windows that took up most of the wall.

 “Look at this view, K,” Shepard said, pointing to the window, **.** “We’re going to have the most majestic fucking with this view.”

 Kaidan laughed and tossed his suitcase down beside the bed. Unzipping the top, he shuffled around inside the collection of clothes and other items he’d brought with him, desperate to find a few items he knew would be invaluable for the next five days. But Shepard’s movements on the bed distracted him, and he looked up to see he’d stripped off his shirt and was currently working on his jeans, fingers making quick work of the button and zipper to reveal a pair of bright red briefs.

 “You don’t even want to take a look around the hotel?” Kaidan asked, watching Shepard strip with hungry eyes.

 Pushing his jeans past his thighs, Shepard shook his head and turned around, revealing to Kaidan the fact that he was wearing a jock-strap instead of briefs. He must have bought it for the trip, because Kaidan was certain he’d remember such a… revealing pair of underpants.

 The fact that Shepard had bought sexy underpants for their trip was one part amusing, and one part sexy.

 “I spent all morning getting my ass ready to break in this bed and I am not waiting any longer,” Shepard said, flopping back on the bed to kick his jeans and socks off the rest of the way.

 Kaidan grinned and climbed onto the bed, hovering over Shepard. He was quickly pulled down by the belt loops on his jeans, Shepard’s legs spreading and wrapping around his waist.

 “How long has it been since I’ve been inside you?” Kaidan mumbled, soaking in the sight of Shepard beneath him, grinning and laughing without a care in the world.

 “Almost three weeks,” he said, slipping his hands under and up Kaidan’s shirt, fingers rubbing his nipples gently. “But who’s counting?”

 Kaidan moaned softly and bit his bottom lip. Kissing Shepard deeply, he only broke away to help him get his shirt off before he was back down on top of him, bare chest to bare chest, his hands sliding down Shepard’s waist to tug at the band of his jock-strap, feeling strong, smooth muscles flex underneath. Shepard ran his hands through Kaidan’s hair, mussing it up in seconds. His kisses were hungry and desperate, little unexpected groans slipping past that Kaidan ate up.

This had been a good idea—a very good idea. The stresses and expectations of their respective lives could take a backseat here. Far removed from Vancouver, they could just be with one another in a space all their own, tucked away in the mountains, sunshine streaming down on them as they became reacquainted with one another.

 As fake husband and husband.

 And because everything was going so smoothly, something or someone had to fuck it up. Lucky for Kaidan it was both something (condoms) and someone (him). Just as they were really getting into it, Shepard fully naked and Kaidan almost there, his hands between Shepard’s legs as he rubbed and teased his hole, Kaidan remembered how he’d purchased a box of their favourite kind of condoms before they left.

 And then proceeded to leave them on his bathroom counter back home in Vancouver.

 “Fuck,” he mumbled against Shepard’s neck, middle finger pausing its assault on Shepard’s prostate.

 “Don’t stop,” Shepard mumbled as he rotated his hips gently.

 Lifting his head, Kaidan pulled his finger out and braced his hands on either side of Shepard’s head. His cheeks were flushed, lips bruised with deep kisses, and pupils blown so wide he looked a little stoned.

 “I forgot the condoms,” he admitted, almost as horrified with himself as Shepard seemed to be with him, judging by the way he was looking up at him like he’d just declared his deep abiding love of police states.

 “You forgot the condoms?” he repeated.

 Kaidan smiled tentatively. “I had a lot to pack.”

_Thankfully I didn’t forget my medication. That could have been an uncomfortable few days._

 Shepard grunted—loudly—and dropped his hands down onto the mattress.

 “I’m not going to waste this clean ass,” he grumbled.

 “I don’t want to waste it, either.”

 Shepard sighed and rolled his eyes. It lost much of its sting with the small smile on his lips. “Then I guess you’ll just have to make me cum in other ways.”

 Kaidan chuckled and rubbed their noses together.

 “I think I can do that,” he mumbled, grinning as he was pulled down for another kiss.

XX

 Only Shepard could pull off wearing sunglasses inside.

 Standing in the middle of the condom and lube aisle in the drugstore, Kaidan watched as Shepard fiddled with a box of ‘For Her’ lube, aviator sunglasses pushed down to the middle of his nose.

 “Thinking of trying out a night with a special lady?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard rolled his eyes and shoved the box back onto the shelf. Adjusting his jacket he put his hands into his pockets. “Not now that I’m _married_.”

 Kaidan smirked and tossed the box of condoms in his hand to the other. “Got the kind we like—ready to go and grab something to eat and then head back to the hotel?”

 “The kind ‘we’ like, hm?” Shepard said, nudging Kaidan with his elbow as they walked down the aisle.

 “Well we are married, remember?” he said as they got in line.

 Shepard smiled, but it was slowly lost the longer they waited in line. Someone was buying a series of scratch-cards and being _very_ particular about it. Pulling out his phone, Kaidan sent a series of texts to Ashley telling her about the fake marriage, while Shepard seemed to stare off into space next to him.

 “Hey, K…”

 Kaidan grunted and put his phone back in his pocket. “Yeah?”

 “We’re pretty serious now, right? I mean, we’re officially a couple or whatever, right?”

 Kaidan nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

 “And you don’t want to see anyone other than me, right?”

 Kaidan nodded again. “I thought I made this clear. Why? Did you want to see other people?”

_Get him back only to have him want to see other people. Would be fitting with my love life._

 “No, not at all,” Shepard said quickly.

 A group of girls appeared in line then, and Shepard moved in a little closer to Kaidan, ignoring their boisterous conversation and hand waving.

 “I just thought maybe we could go together to get tested. You know… so we don’t have to go buy condoms like this.”

 Shepard had taken on an oddly vulnerable tone, his mannerisms slightly uncertain as he stood stooped next to Kaidan.

 Kaidan couldn’t help but smile. Getting tested so they no longer had to use condoms was a huge step in their relationship, one that Kaidan had been reluctant to ask of Shepard. He wasn’t sure how he felt about bareback, or whether he’d even want to do that with Kaidan. But clearly he did, and Kaidan was grateful that he was willing to broach the subject first.

 “Sounds like a great idea,” he said, catching Shepard’s gaze through his sunglasses.

 Shepard smiled and let out a sigh of relief. “Great. Maybe when we get back to Vancouver we’ll go together.”

 “Yeah, for sure. I’m looking forward to when we get the all clear and we can… you know… connect some more.”

 Shepard nodded and kissed Kaidan’s temple. Remaining close he draped his arm over Kaidan’s shoulder. “Can’t wait to feel you all the way inside me… feel your hot cum inside my ass.”

 Of course that had to be the moment when the girls had a lull in their conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff! Actual fluff! And maybe more next chapter! And by maybe I mean most definitely. But enjoy it while it lasts, folks. That's all I'm saying.
> 
> Also, please note: the story now has a definitive set number of chapters. 33 is the final number, so we're about half-way finished. Hope you stick with it until the end! :)
> 
> Big thanks to Annaraven as always, and to all of you for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more fluffy chapter for y'all. Then it is back to reality...

 Shepard had never been on a vacation.

 Yeah, he’d had some days off before, but he’d never gone and done anything with them. He sat at home or wandered the streets like usual, only this time without any purpose except to waste time until he went back to work. He’d never left Vancouver for longer than a day, and the furthest he’d ever traveled was to Victoria.

 This trip to Banff was… new, to say the least.

 It had been hard for Shepard to just drop all of his inhibitions and _let_ Kaidan pamper him. Shepard held on to his bizarre sense of pride by pretending he was as well-off as Kaidan was—something they both knew was a massive fucking lie. Whenever they went out he paid for his own meals, never let Kaidan buy him gifts outside of the lighter he’d given him, and the few times Kaidan bought takeaway at his apartment Shepard always chipped in with his fair share.

 But he couldn’t do that here.

 Everything in Banff was expensive; from the bed they slept (and fucked) on, to the food they ate, the car they rented. Even the tiny bottles of shampoo in their washroom were probably half of Shepard’s daily pay. He was once again reminded, as they stepped into the lobby of the hotel, that he didn’t quite fit in Kaidan’s well-to-do little world. Standing in the lobby with his scuffed up shoes and black leather jacket, his old army duffle-bag he’d bought from a surplus carrying the meager contents of his life hooked over his shoulder, he was reminded bluntly of the fact that he was dirt fucking poor.

 But Kaidan didn’t seem to care. He kept looking at Shepard with that maddening expression—that one that made Shepard’s heart squeeze and throat close up. That look that no one else had ever given him in his life. He saw Shepard’s poverty and knew his story but didn’t deny it or ignore it. He simply accepted it and tried his hardest to prove to him it didn’t matter. He wanted to treat Shepard; to prove that he was worth it all—from the expensive bed to the tiny bottles of shampoo—he was worth it.

 And maybe if Kaidan believed it, Shepard could too.

 After that realization (and a well-timed marriage joke), Shepard felt himself relaxing. Returning Kaidan’s look with one of his own, he found he was unable to return to his familiar scowl for the rest of their trip.

 Of course, Kaidan’s brain didn’t take the hint that it was supposed to be a vacation, and on the third day into their five day sex-bender a migraine manifested itself late into the evening. In the middle of sex, actually, when Shepard was right inside him tight after an hour of maddening foreplay.

 In the morning (after Shepard spent most of the night desperately trying not to move too much lest he wake Kaidan up), the migraine seemed to have left, but Kaidan carried himself like a man who had tossed back way too many drinks the night before. He moved slowly and carefully, eyes heavy lidded as he went through his daily routine with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.

 Just as Shepard was about to suggest Kaidan go back to bed, however, he was pulled into a hug with Kaidan demanding—rather forcefully—coffee.

XX

 “I’m sorry that most of the hiking paths are closed for the season.”

 Shepard grunted. “What?”

 “The hiking paths are closed until May,” Kaidan explained, attention half on Shepard and half on his phone as he scrolled through the Parks Canada website. They were sitting outside on a bench near a river, the water only half frozen over, cracks and crevices visible in the thin ice while water continued to rush beneath.

 “It’s fine. I’m having much more fun exploring your countryside,” Shepard replied. Taking a big swig of his coffee, he smirked over the rim when he caught Kaidan’s slight eye-roll.

 “Maybe in late August or something we’ll come back here. Go camping or something and… I dunno, get lost in nature for a bit.”

 Shepard had never been camping before.

  _Sounds isolating. And a relief._

“Yeah, sounds good,” Shepard agreed.

 It was cold enough to give Kaidan’s cheeks and nose a pink tinge, but warm enough that Shepard could still feel his ass after sitting on the bench for ten minutes. The coffee seemed to be cheering Kaidan up, brilliance returning to his once dull eyes, but Shepard watched him with mild concern the entire time, fearful the migraine would return.

 “You’re staring,” Kaidan mumbled, still scrolling through his phone.

 Shepard coughed into his hand and sunk down on the bench. “I was looking at the magpies.”

 “You don’t have to be worried about me, John. I get them all the time.” Kaidan put his phone away and took a drink of his coffee, grimacing slightly as the hot liquid burned a strip down his throat. He turned to look at Shepard, a small smile on his lips. “I’m fine—honestly.”

 Shepard nodded, coffee cup resting between his spread legs. Kaidan’s knee pressed against his own, giving him a piece of his warmth. “Yeah… yeah, I know.”

 They didn’t talk about Kaidan’s cancer. Kaidan didn’t bring it up and Shepard tried not to think about it. It was in the past—something that happened to a scared kid who didn’t deserve it. That was all there was to it…

 Except it didn’t work that way, did it? Kaidan’s migraines and the six different kinds of pills he took in the morning were a direct result of his cancer, and try as he might to look the other way, Shepard just couldn’t ignore the fact that Kaidan was a sick man. Perhaps not life-threatening anymore, but he had medical issues that would always be there.

 And now that Shepard was an active member in his life, the ‘look the other way’ mentality wasn’t as easy as it once had been.

 But Kaidan had made it clear that he didn’t like talking about it. He wanted everyone to pretend that whatever had happened back when he was a kid wasn’t affecting him now; like his entire life up until this point hadn’t been defined by his cancer. Shepard got it—fuck, did he ever get it. Spending years on the streets, living day by day as best he could, doing sickening shit just to get a little bit of money for some food… stuff like that stuck with you, no matter how much you tried to deny it. Shepard was as powerless to escape his past as Kaidan was.

 Still…

 “Hey… K… can I ask you a question?”

 Kaidan hummed what sounded like a yes.

 “This uh… this shit you deal with—like the migraines and shit—how long has that been going on for?”

 Kaidan smiled tightly and looked down at his cup, fingers playing with the edge of the lid in an uncharacteristic manner. Kaidan paced when he was working through ideas—he didn’t fiddle like this. Not usually.

 “You mean to ask: when was I diagnosed with cancer, right?” he asked after a time, gaze flicking over to the mountains off in the distance.

 Shepard didn’t say anything. He regretted asking almost immediately. Kaidan shouldn’t have to talk about it if he didn’t want to, and yet here he was, asking fucking stupid questions because he was curious.

 “Look, I shouldn’t have—”

 “Eleven,” Kaidan said, sitting back on the bench. He sighed and turned to Shepard. “I was eleven when I was officially diagnosed, but symptoms had been appearing for a few months before that.”

_Eleven… fuck. Kaidan really was just a kid._

“I’d been getting really bad headaches for a while leading up to everything,” Kaidan continued. “It gave me things like double-vision, nausea and vomiting—couple of nosebleeds. My parents were concerned, but my family doctor thought I just had bad headaches. But things didn’t really start progressing until one day I uh… well… I had a seizure at school.”

 “Shit.”

 Kaidan laughed mirthlessly and nodded. “Yeah, that about sums it up…”

 Shepard didn’t know what to say or do. He itched for a cigarette but quelled the desire. This was a mistake—a dumb mistake. This was supposed to be a vacation and not a ‘dredge up every horrible memory’ trip. But before Shepard could stop him Kaidan was continuing, seemingly lost in thought as he played with the lid of his cup, chin turned down and eyes fixated on the river below.

 “Liara was… she was with me when it happened. She was the one who got help. I guess that’s why she’s always been really concerned about me, you know? Because she was there when it all really began… I can’t even image what she was going through…”

 Leave it to Kaidan to be concerned for others while he was going through a seizure.

 “Anyway, after being rushed to the hospital and a lot of tests later, I was diagnosed with primitive neuroectodermal tumours… basically a type of brain cancer that’s common in kids, but with a really good prognosis if you catch it early. But I didn’t hear any of that when I was diagnosed. I just remember not fully understanding everything, you know? Like I was watching it all happen from behind a thick glass wall or something. The doctors were speaking and I was nodding along but… I didn’t really hear it, you know? But what I do remember is… is my dad starting to cry. I remember just wishing he would stop because that was scaring me more than the cancer diagnosis. I’d never seen my dad so frightened before and I just couldn’t understand it all, you know?”

 He looked over at Shepard, brows furrowed and lips pulled tight. Shepard could see he was clenching his jaw, holding back whatever he was feeling as he tried to keep his voice steady. Shepard didn’t know what to do, but reached out to take his hand anyways, wanting to give him someplace to ground himself if he needed to.

 Kaidan readily took his hand in his own, and Shepard rubbed the soft place between his thumb and pointer, warming the chilled skin with each swipe.

 Kaidan took a steadying breath and turned to look back at the river, jaw flexing at the corners. “I went in for surgery that week and they took what they could out. After that it was chemotherapy and radiation until they just… disappeared. I think I spent a good year of my life in the hospital, stuck in the kid’s ward with all the other sick children. The surgery left me feeling horrible, but the radiation… that really took it out of me… it… it messed me up pretty bad. Made me sick for hours, took away most of my hair, and gave me like… this brain fog that lasted for years afterward. Some people call it chemo-brain, but I just call it fucked up.

 “Which is why I study cancer treatments… just trying to find a way to prevent anyone else—any other kid—from going through the stuff I did. If I can prevent just one kid from ever having to experience chemo and radiation, it’d all be worth it… all of it—even my own cancer.”

 Shepard admired Kaidan even before he knew all of this about him, and couldn’t help but fall that little bit more in love with him as he spoke. Kaidan was strong and he was kind; passionate and committed, a force all of his own. The rich, pretty boy he’d first seen at that party months ago had turned into the incredible, awe-inspiring man he was proud to call his partner. But Shepard didn’t know how to verbalize any of that. Never very good with words and always better with actions anyways, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against Kaidan’s temple, Kaidan leaning into his embrace like the moon caught in the earth’s rotation.

 “I uh… I don’t know what to say,” Shepard admitted, voice soft. “I don’t want to say sorry because I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but… I _am_ sorry I brought it all up again. I shouldn’t have asked.”

 Kaidan sighed and turned his head slightly, catching Shepard in a soft kiss. Breaking apart, they rested their foreheads together, Kaidan’s eyes closed, thick black lashes resting against the tops of his high cheekbones.

 “It’s good you asked,” he mumbled. “I’ve been holding this in for a while, thinking maybe if I didn’t tell you that it wouldn’t be an issue, you know? Like I could… I could pretend I was normal even though I have all these side-effects. But you deserve to know. I _want_ you to know about that period of my life.”

 Again, Shepard was speechless, and again, he decided to let his actions say what he couldn’t articulate. Pulling away, he put his coffee down on the ground before turning to wrap Kaidan up in a tight hug, arms curling all the way around his shoulders as Kaidan fell into his embrace. Breathing in his scent, Shepard closed his eyes and soaked in the feeling of Kaidan so close to him—both physically and emotionally.

 The fact that he felt so connected to Kaidan should have worried him, but Shepard felt nothing but absolute calm when he was with him. Kaidan was like the eye to Shepard’s storm, and now Shepard felt that maybe he was the same to Kaidan.

 “For what it’s worth, I think you’re an incredible guy, Alenko,” Shepard said against his neck. “I’m proud to call you my husband.”

 He could feel Kaidan’s smile. “Thanks, Shepard… same to you.”

 Pulling away, he cupped the back of Kaidan’s neck, thumb rubbing the corner of his jaw. He could feel the press of scar tissue against his fingers whenever he did this, and had always suspected what they were from. Now he knew…

 “Just because you’re a childhood cancer survivor doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat me next time we play pool, though.”

 Kaidan laughed and gently shoved Shepard with his elbow. “I don’t need you to go easy on me for me to kick your ass.”

 Picking up his coffee Shepard drank the last of it, noting how it was nothing more than lukewarm bean-water by now.

 “What do you say we go get something to eat?” Kaidan suggested, standing with his own empty cup.

 Shepard nodded and followed Kaidan back to the path, throwing his arm over Kaidan’s shoulder. Shepard felt like the air had been cleared a little—like they both knew what was going on with one another. No more secrets or the unknown about each other’s pasts. It was refreshing for Shepard, who had spent his entire life keeping some part of himself locked away from others. Not even Jack knew everything.

 But Kaidan knew and accepted, and Shepard had the opportunity to provide him with the same silent support.

 “Hey, Kaidan,” he said as they stood at the corner waiting for the light to change.

 “Yeah?”

 “I love you,” he said.

  _Feels good to say that._

  Kaidan smiled and kissed him quickly. Shepard had never been one for PDA, but Kaidan was worth any potential repercussions.

 “Love you, too,” Kaidan replied. “And I’ll love you even more if you buy me an Egg McMuffin from that McDonalds down the road.”

 That, Shepard could afford.

 “Deal.”

XX

 From a young age Shepard had known he liked men.

 There was something so fucking hot about the raw, masculine power of a guy. Broad chests and firm grips, masculine, deep moans and the rub of stubble against his neck and thighs. Shepard loved the feeling of sharp angles and hard muscles beneath his hands, the taste of cum on his tongue, and the press of a cock against his hip or throbbing deep inside him.

 There were subtle things he liked about guys, too. The curve of their lower spine and the swell of their ass, how their forearms looked when they rolled up their sleeves, and the sprinkle of hair across their chest and down their stomachs. He loved the junction where neck met shoulder, and how their back muscles flexed when they took off their shirt. He loved the deep rumble of laughter against his back, and how most men ran hot, the touch of their skin burning him up in the best way possible.

 Shepard loved men.

 Shepard loved _Kaidan_.

 “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” Shepard panted against Kaidan’s cheek.

 Kaidan moaned breathily, Shepard catching it over the sound of the shower. Gripping Shepard’s ass, Kaidan gave it a firm squeeze as they rubbed cocks together, a loud squeak breaking through the rough pants and heavy waterfall as Kaidan’s back slid against the glass shower door.

 Kaidan began to laugh and Shepard swallowed it up with a kiss. Their tongues rubbed together messily, Kaidan pressing back with equal force, his hands straying upward to cup the back of Shepard’s head, deepening their embrace. Shepard kept his hands on the glass wall, trying to keep them grounded as Kaidan continued to frot against him with one leg wrapped around his waist.

 They’d begun their shower fully intending to actually get clean so they could go out for dinner for their last night in Banff, but then Kaidan had gone and stretched his arms high above his head as he washed the soap out of his hair, muscles flexing and stretching, and Shepard was on him like a starved man.

 The steam in the shower was fogging up the room, and Shepard broke the kiss to see his hand prints all over the glass, streaky and messy as he humped Kaidan into it. Kaidan had gone back to massaging Shepard’s ass, fingers sliding along the dip of his spine before latching on to the muscles, dragging him in so their cocks were lined up perfectly.

 Ducking his head, Shepard watched as they rubbed together, holding back a moan as Kaidan kissed his shoulder before biting, the rough brush of day-old stubble rubbing against his skin pleasantly.

 Shepard’s foot slipped on the tile and he let out a startled grunt.

  _Fucking water being fucking slippery._

 Pulling away regretfully, Shepard turned off the water by slamming down the tap with a satisfying ‘thunk’. Spinning back around he admired Kaidan in his disheveled state, body dripping with water and hair unkempt and wet. His cock was bouncing along with his heartbeat, and the smirk he wore as he brushed a few stray strands of hair from his forehead was like nothing else.

 “You just going to stand there or are we going to take this into the bedroom?” Kaidan asked, and Shepard watched as he slowly rolled his hips forward, cock jutting upward.

  _Fuck, Kaidan. You’re going to be the fucking death of me._

 Shepard dropped down before Kaidan instead, and ignoring the press of the hard tiles against his knees, sucked the tip of Kaidan’s member into his mouth, lapping up the pre-cum that had beaded up. Kaidan let out a husky moan, hips bucking as he slid deeper into Shepard’s mouth. Relaxing his jaw and breathing through his nose, Shepard rubbed Kaidan’s thighs as he slowly began to fuck his mouth, Kaidan’s hands cupping the back of his head in a gentle hold.

 In and out and in and out Kaidan pushed, Shepard’s eyes closing as he tasted all of Kaidan with each swipe. He moaned softly as Kaidan stopped with the head resting on his tongue, and smirked as best he could when he felt Kaidan’s thighs quake the longer he lapped at the tip and rubbed the glans with the inside of his cheeks.

 “We’re so late for dinner,” Kaidan said. He didn’t sound too put out by it, however. In fact, he sounded downright pleased—a silky purr to the end of his words as he rubbed the back of Shepard’s neck.

 Letting Kaidan’s dick drop from his mouth, Shepard mumbled an agreement before sucking hard on the junction where hip met groin. Kaidan cried out then, and Shepard heard his head hit the glass rather forcefully when he sucked one of his balls into his mouth.

 Practically spitting his testicle out, Shepard sat back and looked up at Kaidan, unable to hide his laughter when he saw Kaidan’s sheepish expression as he rubbed the back of his head.

 “You okay?” he asked, rubbing Kaidan’s stomach gently, enjoying the feeling of muscles flexing beneath warm skin and soft hair.

 “Yeah… just lost a few more brain cells, but I’m alright,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard nodded and kissed the point just below Kaidan’s bellybutton. Standing, he was immediately dragged into another heated kiss, and it was his turn to be pressed up against the wall on the opposite side, hot back hitting cool tiles. Shivering, he dragged Kaidan in closer, Shepard feeling each breath Kaidan took in whenever his stomach pushed against his own. Running his hands through Kaidan’s hair, he tried to subtly rub the back of his head where he’d hit it, but instead felt the familiar raised scar tissue.

 He must have hesitated because Kaidan broke from the kiss, his eyes open and a small, insecure smile playing at his lips.

 “You okay?”

 Shepard nodded and dropped his hands to rest on Kaidan’s forearms as he gripped his hips. “Yeah—just thinking we should move things into the bedroom.”

 Kaidan nodded, his smile coming out in full, and kissed him one last time before exiting the shower. They toweled off together, both ignoring their raging erections in favour of being somewhat dry. Kaidan’s hair could hold up to six buckets of water, it seemed, and Shepard didn’t relish sleeping in a damp bed.

 Returning to the bed, it didn’t take them long to get back into the swing of things. Kaidan was already relaxed and loose from their mid-morning fuck and needed little prep, but Shepard took his time regardless, eating up the moans and groans as he prepared Kaidan with his fingers and tongue.

 That was another thing Shepard adored about Kaidan. He was vocal and uninhibited when he had sex. He moaned loudly and arched off the bed, spread his legs and took Shepard in with no shame or modesty. He told Shepard just how much he loved it, and Shepard got off on the simple sensation of just making Kaidan feel _good_.

 Shepard had been called selfish in his life, and he guessed it was true. He looked out for himself and Jack and that was it—everyone else could go fuck themselves. But when it came to sex, the satisfaction of pleasing his partner outweighed his own needs. The same was true for Kaidan, the only difference being that his need to please wasn’t exclusive to the bedroom anymore. He wanted to see Kaidan smiling and happy—didn’t matter whether he saw that smile after an orgasm or because he’d told a stupid joke.

 Raising his head from between Kaidan’s legs, Shepard kissed across his stomach, pausing at a nipple to give it equal attention, knowing just how much Kaidan loved to have them played with. Kaidan meanwhile fumbled around with the box of condoms, ripping one off and flicking it at Shepard’s head.

 “Prick,” he mumbled, no malice behind the words.

 Kaidan just waggled his eyebrows and rolled his hips upward.

 “I can’t wait until we can just bypass these,” Shepard said as he unwrapped the condom. Dropping the package in the bin, he rolled it over his dick with haste, desperate to be inside Kaidan—to feel his heat around him once more.

 “We’ll go next week,” Kaidan said. Grabbing one of the pillows, he shoved it under his waist and tilted his hips forward, exposing himself to Shepard.

 Without a hint of modesty.

 “Fuck, K…” Shepard whispered as he sunk into Kaidan with ease. Kaidan moaned—low and deep—as Shepard pushed inside, and pressed his thighs against his side, keeping him locked in place.

 Dropping down, he kissed Kaidan deeply as he began to rock back and forth slowly, letting Kaidan set the pace. Kaidan was hot all over, hands and stomach and lips burning trails across his skin. Shepard enjoyed the sensation of Kaidan’s stubble as it rubbed against his own, and the deep, masculine moans as he pulled him in deeper with each roll of his hips. His hands were gripping on to his shoulders with force—like he knew he couldn’t break Shepard even if he wanted to.

 They moved together like that for some time, deep and steady and so fucking good. Their kiss became messy, lips rubbing and teeth biting, but lacking a steady rhythm like their hips. When Shepard pulled away, however, and saw the challenging look in Kaidan’s eyes, he couldn’t help but take that next step.

  _The fucking death of me._

Holding on to the sheets and bracing himself on the mattress, he began snapping his hips forward faster and harder, Kaidan crying out as he held on to Shepard. The bed began to squeak and the sound of flesh against flesh broke through the heavy pants and subtle grunts. Shepard’s lips parted and he realized he was making half the noises, a blush appearing on his already flushed features.

 Kaidan was hearing the noises, however, and grinned up at Shepard before moaning again, head tossed back and neck muscles stretched as he took him all in and _held_ him.

 “Fuck, Kaidan. F-fucking fuck,” Shepard gasped out, dick pulled in so tight he thought it might break off. Kaidan relaxed a little, but Shepard stayed where he was, overcome with the feeling of Kaidan wrapped all around him. Kaidan was gripping his back now, his breath brushing over Shepard’s bruised lips.

 Steeling himself, Shepard sat up and grabbed Kaidan’s knees, holding his legs open as he humped into him. Kaidan moaned again, back arching off the bed as Shepard began stroking him with one hand, the other still holding on to his knee. He could tell Kaidan was close, and manipulated him the way he knew he liked it, bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he watched the display before him.

 Straining muscles and sweat-slicked skin, beads across his chest and brow, Kaidan stretched out on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair—tugging—while the other pinched a nipple and rubbed across his pecs. It didn’t take much longer before he was coming, Shepard angling his hips just so to hit the sweet spot.

 Shepard watched as Kaidan rode through his orgasm, coaxing him through it with gentle and rough holds, pushing his needs to the back as he brought Kaidan through his wild ride. As soon as he was done Shepard pulled out, discarding the condom as quickly as he could. Straddling Kaidan’s stomach, Shepard jerked himself off, Kaidan rubbing his thighs and speaking words of endearment in his husky, smooth, sex-laced voice.

 It didn’t take much after that for Shepard to get his release as well.

 Collapsing on the bed next to Kaidan, Shepard pressed his face into the blankets, grinning when he heard Kaidan giggling.

 “Worth missing our dinner reservation?” Shepard asked, nudging Kaidan with his knee.

 Kaidan rolled over and draped himself across Shepard’s back. They were sticky and hot, but Shepard didn’t want to boot him off.

 “Definitely worth it,” Kaidan answered. Applying a few soft kisses along Shepard’s neck, Kaidan pressed his nose against Shepard’s cheek. “Although I’m still starved.”

 “You’re always hungry.”

 “Because we’re always burning calories.”

 “True.” Shepard raised his ass slightly, nudging Kaidan off of him. Rolling on to his back, he pulled Kaidan back into his orbit, Kaidan hovering above him as their legs tangled together.

 Kaidan lost a bit of his smile the longer they lay on the bed, and Shepard gently nudged him with his knee.

 “You okay?”

 Kaidan hummed. “Just thinking about going back to Vancouver tomorrow…”

 Shepard swallowed the brick that formed in his throat. He didn’t want to think about that—didn’t want to be reminded that this wasn’t his actual life. He belonged on the streets of the Eastside; in the muck and the grime, the corruption and the violence. He knew this—always had. But in the past week he’d managed to forget about all of that. He’d managed to delude himself—if only for a moment—that he wasn’t some gang banger with a foreshortened future, dealing drugs and beating up ‘customers’, and living in a shitty apartment next to a safe injection site.

 In Banff he was just a guy who had come to get away from it all just like anyone else; a man vacationing with his ‘husband’, enjoying the wealth and opulence of the mountain parks, and buying shitty tourist trinkets while eating fatty ‘Canadian’ foods. For a week, Shepard was someone other than himself.

 But it could never last.

 The illusion had been nice, however.

 “I had a lot of fun this week,” Shepard admitted. 

 “Yeah?” Kaidan sounded genuinely pleased.

 “Yeah, definitely. It was interesting being your husband for a couple of days. There are a lot of perks.”

 He accepted a chaste kiss, and when Kaidan pulled away he couldn’t help but keep him close, thumb rubbing the dimple on his chin.

 “We should do this again,” Kaidan said softly.

 “Vacation or being husbands?” Shepard teased.

 “Why not both?”

 Kaidan sounded serious. There was a surprised look that flashed across his face, as if his own tone had caught him off guard, his brows raising a fraction. Shepard lost much of his smile, unable to interpret what he was getting at.

 “You uh… you want to be actually married?” he asked slowly.

 Shepard didn’t know what answer he wanted, and it seemed Kaidan didn’t know, either.

 “Not now,” he said quickly, cheeks still flushed. “But maybe one day… you know, when we’re both middle aged with bellies and grey hair.”

 He laughed nervously, but Shepard could still see the hope in his eyes.

_He wants to marry me one day…_

 It was probably the afterglow talking—it had to be. No one in their right mind would ever want to _marry_ him. But Kaidan had always been a little bit crazy; he had to be for wanting a relationship with him in the first place.

 “You might wanna get a prenuptial, then. I might just be in it for the money,” he joked, breaking the tension. Kaidan laughed and moved in for another kiss, and Shepard was more than willing to accept it.

 He tried to get lost in the embrace, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the weird tingle he felt in his stomach whenever he thought of actually being married to Kaidan. The thought didn’t terrify him as much as it probably should have.

 He’d worry about what _that_ meant later.

_Goddamn orgasms._

 They were making him fucking dumb.

 Kaidan hummed as they broke away, eyes heavy lidded as he gazed down at Shepard. The previous awkwardness was gone, slipping away as fast as the week had.

 “What are you thinking about?” Shepard asked, stroking Kaidan’s shoulder.

 “Food,” Kaidan admitted.

 Shepard grinned. “Man after my own heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I gagged a little from the cuteness while writing this chapter. But it's worth the minor dry-heaving because shit is about to get pretty serious. Hope you enjoyed their little adventure together!
> 
> Thanks to Annaraven for the wonderful beta work, and thanks to all of you for all your amazing support. Love ya!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some plot development. Some burrito Shepard.

 “I thought by twenty-seven you’d stop purging our fridge of all its contents.”

 Kaidan grabbed the mustard and mayonnaise and tossed them onto the counter with the rest of his sandwich fixings, ignoring his mother’s raised eyebrows.

 “I just got back from Banff and had nothing in my fridge,” he explained, nudging the fridge door closed with his hip. “Besides—you and Dad have enough turkey to feed an army.”

 It was true. Kaidan had opened the fridge to find piles of turkey cut on up on a platter, plastic wrapped and just begging to be made into whatever his heart desired.

 “It was on sale,” his mother said a bit defensively. Sitting forward at the dinner table, she went back to her crossword puzzle, brows furrowed as she scribbled in her answers with expert efficiency. Kaidan suspected she’d answered this one before years ago, and had just retained most of the ridiculously obscure answers.

 He set to making his sandwich, stomach growling as he did so. He and Shepard had arrived in Vancouver late in the day, both exhausted in a way only a vacation could leave them. Shepard had asked to get a lift home right away, stating that he was eager to see if everything was alright. Kaidan also suspected he wanted a bit of space—something Kaidan was more than willing to give him. They’d done the ‘I love you’ and had an amazing romantic vacation in the mountains, and Kaidan was fairly certain that Shepard would come wandering over to his apartment when he felt like it.

 The thought of Shepard being a permanent—if irregular—fixture in his life made Kaidan grin like an idiot.

 As soon as he’d returned home, however, he’d collapsed in bed and slept off the altitude change before venturing into the kitchen to discover he had no edible food, save for some pickles and a can of refried beans. Thus he returned to his parents’ house, gave his mother the obligatory kiss on the cheek and a cheerful greeting, before making a beeline to the kitchen like he was a teenager again.

 Finishing up his sandwich, he grabbed a can of Coke and sat down at the table across from his mum, digging in like a man starved—which he technically was.

 “How was Banff?” she asked when he started in on the second half of his sandwich.

 “Good,” he replied.

 “Get any migraines?”

 She was doing the thing where she asked questions to things she didn’t really want answers to, in hopes that Kaidan would bring up what she _did_ care about. It both annoyed and amused Kaidan, and he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to help her out a little or continue the weird dance they’d found themselves in.

  _You’re getting rebellious, Kaidan. Maybe Shepard’s rubbing off on you._

 “Only two—one on the first day when the altitude shifted, and a few days in from general… exhaustion. But it was fine all round; I felt good.”

 Excessive sex with doses of extreme caffeine and fatty food consumption, more like.

 “That’s good.”

 She sighed and continued to scribble away, Kaidan finishing the last of his sandwich in the process. It had reached the point where he wanted to tell his mother about Shepard, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it.

_‘Hey, Mum. I’ve been seeing this guy for seven months almost—we’re pretty serious, even if I never spoke a word about him. His name is John but he prefers to go by his last name, Shepard, because he’s aloof like that. Also, he runs in a gang and I’m pretty sure dad’s arrested him a couple of times.’_

 He’d start with the basics.

 “His name is John.”

 She looked up from her crossword, pen poised over another answer, her reading glasses slipping down her nose.

 “John?” she repeated.

 He nodded. Brushing the napkin over his lips, he swallowed the last of the sandwich. “The person I went to Banff with… his name is John. Although he prefers to go by his last name—Shepard.”

 She smiled then—a bit triumphantly, like she knew she’d won— and put her pen down between the sheets. Folding up her glasses, she put them down on the book too before she sat back in her chair.

 “Is John a friend or a… _friend?_ ”

 Kaidan didn’t much like the way she lowered her voice. It was weird.

 “He’s my partner. We’re uh… boyfriends, I guess you could say.”

 It sounded juvenile to say it aloud.

 “And how long have you known John for?”

 Kaidan had hoped this wouldn’t come up so soon in the conversation. His mother wasn’t intrusive in his life to the point of stifling, but they _were_ close. Every other partner he’d had up until Shepard he’d told his mother about a month into the relationship. But he’d kept Shepard from her for close to seven months. Seven months of Kaidan’s life had been wrapped up in Shepard, and his mother had not been a part of those months in the slightest.

 The fact that he’d kept Shepard from her for so long made Kaidan feel a bit sick with guilt.

 “We’ve uh… well, we’ve known each other for close to seven months,” he said, gaze skirting down to his plate.

 “And you’ve been dating him for…?”

 “About six… unofficially. We had a bit of a break. But uh… yeah, six months of dating.”

 “Oh, I see.”

 Kaidan couldn’t read her expression but he knew that tone. It was her ‘I’m slightly surprised’ tone she used when she’d just been dropped a bombshell of information, but didn’t want anyone to know how much it shocked her.

 He needed to explain why he’d kept John separate without revealing too much. And fast—before the guilt-trip started.

 “John is different from the other people I’ve dated,” he started. “He uh… he’s just not someone you typically take home to places like this…”

 He waved his hand about.

 “Is he… I mean…” she paused a moment before continuing quickly, “you’re going to have to be a little less vague, Kaidan.”

 Guess he just had to be blunt about it, then.

 “He’s from the Eastside, Mum. Born and raised and… yeah. He’s not from Shaughnessy Centre like we are, and he’s _really_ aware of it. Like, I think he thinks that I don’t notice how uncomfortable he is in my space or world or whatever, but he’s… he’s not used to the kind of life I live. And I wasn’t sure how to… introduce him, I guess? Because everything I think is normal is… not. For him, at least.”

 She nodded, brows furrowed slightly. “I think I understand. You’re worried that your father and I won’t accept him because he’s less well off?”

 That was the understatement of the year. Since he started seeing Shepard, Kaidan had become increasingly aware of just how good he had it. His parents lived in Shaughnessy Centre in a multi-million dollar home that had been in the family for three generations. His mum used to _sell_ other multi-million dollar homes in Vancouver. He’d spent some of his inheritance money on a penthouse apartment in Yaletown like it was completely normal, attended close to ten years’ worth of university without ever having to take out a loan, and drove a BMW, a car he had thought was less flashy than his friends’ Mercedes and Bentleys.

 Shepard was poor—there was no denying it. And Kaidan knew he’d be doubly uncomfortable meeting his parents in a home that outranked him in every possible way. Shepard was a proud guy, and Kaidan was loath to destabilize him in that regard.

 “Not really—I mean, not the bit about not accepting him, but… well… John is a proud guy, but we both know he’s not really that well-off. I just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable putting him in a position I knew he was going to struggle to fill. But now that we’re really serious I just… I thought you should know.”

 He was going to leave the bit out about purposely keeping Shepard a secret because he liked the thrill of having someone no one else knew about. It had been selfish and Kaidan knew that—he didn’t need his mother lecturing him about it.

 And the part about him being a _drug dealer_.

 “How serious?”

 She was leaning forward at the table, arms folded across one another, her back straight—all prim and proper in a way Kaidan knew she wasn’t actually. She was still smiling, but Kaidan could tell she was hurting slightly. He hadn’t told her, and no matter how much he tried to spin it, he knew he’d fucked up. Even if he claimed he was protecting Shepard—which he was—that didn’t mean he couldn’t have told his parents he was seeing _someone_.

 For seven months.

 And he knew this was the easy part. His mother had always been a little less stifling than his father had been. She’d let him do what he felt he needed to do, trusting him to make his own decisions and deal with the consequences both good and bad. But his father had been the one prone to smothering, desperate to make sure Kaidan never made any bad life choices, and protective in a way that bordered on suffocating.

 He was always going to be that little boy in the hospital bed to his father. Kaidan couldn’t escape it.

 “Really serious,” he said quietly. He glanced at the table, finger tracing the swirls of the knots in the varnished wood. Sighing, he looked back up at her and locked eyes. “I love him… I love him like I’ve never loved anyone else before. I feel like… I feel like maybe he could be the one, Mum.”

  _If he’ll let me._

 That seemed to surprise her. The soft, gentle smile she put on dropped, and her expression quickly turned from intense curiosity into shock.

 “Oh… that’s very serious, Kaidan.”

 He nodded. “Yeah… yeah, I guess it is.”

 It took her a moment to collect herself, hands fussing about with the edges of her crossword book. She looked like she was going to get up to get a glass of water—or maybe even wine—but she stayed where she was after a few ‘hums’.

 Kaidan just stayed seated where he was, hands locked together tightly on the table, his Coke abandoned and rapidly losing all its carbonation. He knew he should have said something earlier, a vague reference or even the full story—but he hadn’t and that was that. No use regretting it now…

 Finally his mother seemed to collect herself, the pink flush in her cheeks leaving as she worked through whatever had overcome her. She finally smiled, and Kaidan believed the warmth behind it.

 “Well, I guess I’ll have to meet this John of yours so I can give him the proper once-over. I _trust_ you’re going to introduce us soon?” 

 Kaidan chuckled—more from relief than anything—and nodded. “Yeah, totally.  I want to create a… a neutral space for you two to meet. Some place he can feel not totally out of his element, you know? I don’t think he’s ever met someone’s parents before…”

 “Have you met his parents?” she asked. The excitement was returning to her voice, and Kaidan could tell things were starting to settle more comfortably for her.

 “No,” he said. “John uh… he doesn’t have any parents. He lost them when he was really little.”

 Her smile faltered. “Oh… yes, of course.”

_I’m going to have to give her as much information as I can before they meet so she doesn’t start asking about the mother he never had, and the childhood he wishes he could forget._

“What does he do for a living?”

 “He’s a bouncer on the weekends and does odd jobs here and there during the week,” he said, hoping he didn’t look too shifty.

 “Odd jobs?”

 “Yeah, like handyman things,” he lied.

 It surprised him how quickly the lie had come to him; surprised him and also made him feel oddly… proud.

 Maybe he _could_ keep his parents in the dark about his gang activity…

  _Fat fucking chance, Alenko._

“Whatever he can to make ends meet,” he continued, and then decided to change the subject just in case. “Did you want to see a picture of him?”

 Immediately his mother nodded, and Kaidan knew she was preparing to judge every line and angle of Shepard’s face in order to see if he was ‘worthy’ of her son’s affection. She’d done it with his past partners before—much to his horror.

 Scrolling through the pictures he’d taken during their vacation, Kaidan went through piles of totally not-safe-for-mom photos before landing on a candid photo taken after one of their breakfasts. Shepard was sitting across from him, morning sunlight streaming through the window he was next to, coffee in hand as he stared at something outside. The light brightened up his sky blue eyes, and the usual scowl he wore was gone, replaced instead with a pensiveness Kaidan had come to know as an indicator of ease.

 Kaidan passed the phone to his mum, desperately hoping she wouldn’t start scrolling through the other photos. She really did not need to see post-sex selfies of her son.

 He went back to his Coke, trying to busy himself with a drink while his mother looked at the photo with the intensity he’d expected she would. Sipping quietly, he turned his attention to the window just in time for his mother to do exactly what he didn’t want her to.

 “Oh dear lord,” she said, tossing the phone down onto the table.

 Kaidan snatched his phone and noted the picture she’d landed on. It was of him and Shepard both completely messed up, cheeks pink and Kaidan’s hair all over the place as they made out naked on the bed.

 “Mum! Don’t scroll through my pictures,” he said, cheeks burning bright pink.

 She was laughing.

 “Don’t be such a stereotype, Kaidan. I thought I raised you better than to take photos like that and leave them on your phone.”

 Kaidan blushed and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He needed to get those photos into special files—and fast.

 Liara was going to want to look at his photos next, and she was even snoopier than his mother.

 “He does have beautiful eyes, though,” his mother said, still giggling, a smug smile on her red stained lips.

 “Yeah, I guess.”

 “And I like his nose—it’s very regal. Although his haircut is rather severe—has he ever considered growing it out?”

 “Mum…”

 She shrugged and threw her hands up in surrender. “Just a suggestion.”

 “I’ll be sure to let him know you don’t like his hair,” he said, trying not to smile.

 This was turning out better than he had anticipated. Sure, he still had to actually introduce them, but at least his mother wasn’t giving him the third-degree for not telling her earlier.

 Yet.

 “Well, I’m happy for you, Kaidan,” she said, putting on her proud mother voice. “He looks like a very nice man, and you seem very smitten. I’m glad you told me—even if it _was_ a few months late.”

_So much for that._

 “Sorry,” he said, and had enough presence of mind to look guilty about it.

 She shrugged and stood up, grabbing Kaidan’s empty plate on her way to the sink. “It’s fine—I can deal with it. Not like my feelings are hurt. But your father…”

 “Yeah, I know…” he mumbled. Pinching his brow, he leaned forward on the table and closed his eyes. Maybe if he faked a migraine for the rest of his life he wouldn’t have to have the ‘chat’ with his dad.

 “You two could have a nice dinner together before you tell him. You can break it to him gently over chocolate cake. You know how much he loves chocolate,” she suggested. Rinsing off the plate, she placed it off to the side before leaning against the counter.

 “Yeah… maybe…”

 She sighed and pushed away from the counter. “Well you’d better do it soon because I expect to meet this John Shepard. Maybe he’ll tell me what he actually does for a living, rather than give me your lame cover-up. A handyman in the Eastside? Really, Kaidan? It’ll take a lot more to fool a mother’s intuition than that lie.”

 Kaidan felt his heart scramble up his throat, and turned around only to see his mother wandering out of the kitchen, her back to him as she ventured toward the stairs.

 “Wait, Mum —what did you mean cover-up?”

 Did she know he was in a gang? How could she possibly know? How could she figure out he was lying—

 “Don’t forget to put your pop can into the recycling,” she called over her shoulder.

 Kaidan turned back around slowly and stared down at the table. How did she know?

 Pulling out his phone, he sent Shepard a text.

_[12:45] Kaidan: Hey. Do you guys have handymen down in the Eastside? Like plumbers and carpenters?_

 He waited a minute, staring at his screen still trying to figure out how his mother knew and how much she really knew, when a new message popped up.

_[12:47] Shepard: Maybe really shitty ones. You have seen the shithole I live in, right?_

Kaidan sighed and slumped back in his chair. He had been so fucking close.

_[12:48] Shepard: I’ll be your plumber if you want ;) I’ll clean your pipes for free._

Kaidan felt another migraine coming on.

XX

 Shepard was eating his dinner like it had personally insulted him just moments before. He sat at Kaidan’s dinner table with his fork in one hand and his knife in the other, a glower on his face as he chewed large chunks of steak quickly and stabbed pieces of carrot with definitive thunk after definitive thunk. Kaidan could feel his knee bouncing under the table, and his knuckles went white a few times as he gripped his cutlery like it was trying to escape.

 He’d arrived well after dinner, soaking wet from the rain and with hands as cold as ice, and immediately asked Kaidan if he had any leftovers. Kaidan hadn’t seen Shepard for a week, both too caught up in getting back to their regular schedules to meet up face-to-face, but even with their brief phone conversations and vague text messages Kaidan knew Shepard was having a hard time getting back into the swing of things at ‘work’. Something had been bothering him all week, and it was clear with the way he was attacking his re-heated leftovers that whatever it was that was bothering him had yet to be solved.

 “How’s the steak?” Kaidan asked, a yellow highlighter poised over data results. He’d brought his work into the kitchen so he could sit with Shepard, but that was proving to be a very distracting mistake.

 “Great,” Shepard mumbled. He grabbed his beer and took a long drink before placing it back down on the coaster with a spiteful look on his face.

 Kaidan was going to wait until Shepard had finished eating before asking what the problem was, but realized that Shepard might burn a hole through his kitchen table with his gaze alone before then.

 Capping his highlighter, he sat forward and grabbed Shepard’s beer, taking a tiny sip before giving it back. The action had effectively caught Shepard’s attention, and Kaidan took his momentary distraction from his steak massacre to ask.

 “So… what’s up?”

 “Nothing,” Shepard said.

 Kaidan rolled his eyes. “So you’re stabbing your steak because what? You’re just feeling peachy?”

 Shepard grunted and shoved his peas around with the tip of his fork. He hadn’t touched them up until now.

 “Shit is just… fucked right now. I don’t want to tell you about it, though. Might conflict with your dad and—”

 “Hey, John,” Kaidan interrupted, “let me worry about my dad, okay? That’s none of your concern, so don’t close up on me. Tell me what’s going on, okay?”

 Kaidan understood the hesitancy to open up about what was truly going on in the Eastside—he honestly did. Truth be told, Kaidan didn’t really fancy learning the details, knowing that the burden of hiding such important information from his father might very well give him an ulcer or two. But at the rate Shepard was going, he was liable to burn out a hell of a lot faster than Kaidan was.

 Kaidan could keep Shepard’s stuff a secret from his father, just like he wasn’t about to go blabbing cop secrets to Shepard. There was… a trade-off. He was a neutral observer.

 Or so he told himself. It was easier to lie than to face the truth that he wasn’t acting with as much integrity as his father would have liked, all for the sake of a man he loved.

 Shepard didn’t say anything for a while. He just worked his jaw back and forth, eyes on Kaidan’s collarbone and not his face, fingers playing with the edge of his fork. Finally he sighed and sat up a little straighter, abandoning his cutlery on the plate with a flourish.

 “It’s just hard getting back into the routine, you know?” he began. “That week we were away just… fuck, it was enough time for me to think that maybe where I live isn’t that much of a shithole—that maybe if I just saw it a little differently it wouldn’t be so fucking horrible to go back to it. But then I get back and it’s even shittier. That rival gang we’ve been having turf wars with almost beat one of us to death a few days ago, my boss has been even more short-tempered than before which is just making us more high-strung, the cops are fucking hounding us day and night and we have no idea why or who tipped them off, and I can’t make—”

 He stopped speaking then. His jaw tensed and his nostrils flared, gaze slipping back down to Kaidan’s collarbone to stare at the divot where the bones met at the centre.

 Kaidan had hoped that their trip would have had lasting effects for Shepard’s mood—maybe have made everything a little easier to deal with. He had some time to breathe and work out all of the kinks and knots in his shoulders _and_ his mind. But that honeymoon stage didn’t last long it seemed. Sitting back in his chair, Kaidan waited to see if Shepard would continue, but he didn’t.

 “You can’t make what?” Kaidan prompted. He had to take it nice and easy—make Shepard realize that telling him what was bothering him wasn’t going to leave him weakened and vulnerable.

 Getting Shepard’s trust had been one thing—getting him to use that trust to his benefit was another. Shepard was too goddamn independent sometimes.

 “I wasn’t getting paid while I was on leave or whatever the fuck it was. So I have shit-all for money and rent is due in a couple of days. I’ve been working doing every odd job I fucking can just to scrape together what I need but I’m still short a hundred and fifty and… fuck, I’m just tired.”

 He groaned and slumped back into his chair, head rolling back to rest against the hard wood backing. Kaidan watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and heard the deep sigh as it drifted up to the ceiling. Dropping his head back down, he rubbed his hands over his face, blinking back the pressure from his eyes.

 “So yeah. That’s how my week’s fucking been. How about yours?”

 “You know if you need money to make rent—”

 “No,” Shepard said sharply.

 The intensity in his gaze made Kaidan back down immediately. Money had always been a hot-topic for them, and Kaidan knew that if he even made the suggestion of lending him some cash Shepard would take offence to it—no matter the real intention behind it. Kaidan just wanted to help, though.

_Fucking stubborn—_

 He bit back his frustration. This wasn’t helping.

 “Don’t be stubborn, Shepard,” he finally said. He resisted the urge to wrestle Shepard down and shove a bunch of bills into his pockets. “You need the help and I can help.”

 “I don’t need he—” he cut himself off and rolled his head from side to side, neck cracking. “I can do this, Kaidan. I’ve got a friend who said he might be able to give me his shift at the bar tonight. I work a few hours, get some tips and I’ll even have enough to buy you dinner.”

 “John—”

 “Kaidan…”

 Shepard stood up and began clearing his dishes, leaving his beer with Kaidan to finish. Kaidan took the bottle and drank the last little bit, lips pursed against the rim as he watched Shepard rinse his plate.

 “I just wanted to help,” he said. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

 Shepard nodded as he dried his hands on the towel. Turning back around he approached Kaidan, hands shoved in his borrowed hoodie. He looked good in blue…

 “Yeah, I get that. You just want to… fix shit for me. But sometimes I gotta do things my way, you know?” he said.

 Kaidan nodded. He didn’t like it, but he knew this was how it was going to be with Shepard. He was an independent, stubborn asshole sometimes.

_But you can be a pushy, judgemental asshole so…_

 “Anything I can do?” he asked. He wanted to pull Shepard onto his lap, but the chair was too narrow to hold both of them comfortably. Instead Shepard reached out and began petting the hairs on his temple before running his fingers along the shell of his ear in slow, distracted movements.

 “Just keep being you… keep trying… keep opening your door to a street dog like me… keep feeding me when I show up late at night looking for food…”

 Kaidan caught Shepard’s hand and kissed his pulse point. He wished he could do more—wished he could just sweep Shepard off and away from the Eastside for good. He wished he could give him a completely new life and a new outlook; rescue him from the sinkhole of despair he was surrounded by at all waking hours down in the Eastside.

 And then it hit him.

 Standing up he waved Shepard off when he asked where he was going and hurried to his bedroom. Throwing open the drawer on his bedside table, he rummaged around through the old pill bottles, condoms, and bizarre collection of unfinished mint packets, before finding what he was looking for. Hurrying back into the kitchen, he dropped a key into Shepard’s hand.

 “So I don’t have to keep letting you in,” he said, smiling hesitantly.

_If he doesn’t like this… I’m straight out of ideas._

“Is this a… key to your apartment?” Shepard asked, staring down at it before looking back up at Kaidan. He seemed confused, which was a great deal better than offended.

 “Yeah, it’s for the front door here. The doorman knows you so he shouldn’t give you any trouble.” He grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to do with himself as Shepard continued to look at him like he’d grown an extra head.

 “But… I mean… won’t you always be here when I’m over?”

 “Sometimes, yeah. But you can use this when I’m not here. Like uh… well, I mean, whenever you just get sick of being where you are. If you need some place to escape to you can come here and… eat all my food. Sleep in my bed… watch Netflix or whatever. Think of this place as your personal version of Banff until we go back.”

 Shepard smiled—hesitant at first, but then bigger and more confident.

 “Thanks, Kaidan. Never had someone trust me with their space before.”

 “Well you’re always sort of in my space now. You’re like… a part of it… or something.”

 Kaidan felt and sounded like a teenager giving his crush a cheap bracelet with their name on it, saying stupid things and rubbing the back of his neck. Shepard didn’t seem to mind, however, and as he put the key in his pocket Kaidan felt all the nervous energy leave.

 “Thanks, K… I’ll use it one day,” Shepard mumbled as he dragged Kaidan in for a slow kiss.

 Kaidan wasn’t sure when he’d use it, but he hoped it would be soon.

“Feel free to use it whenever—even if it’s midnight and you wanna crash on my bed instead of going back home,” Kaidan explained once they’d broken apart.

 Anything Shepard was going to say was interrupted by a violent buzzing against Kaidan’s groin, and he jerked back as Shepard shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone. Bringing up the screen, he grinned.

 “Got the gig at the club—I gotta go,” Shepard said.

 Kaidan got one last kiss in before Shepard took off down the hallway, a skip in his step he hadn’t seen since… well, ever.

 “Remember to take full advantage of that key—abuse it, even,” he called.

 Shepard threw him a thumbs up and was then out the door.

XX

 Kaidan was woken by the loud, obnoxious screech of his alarm clock that was punctuated by an equally loud groan behind him. Slamming his hand down on the alarm, he rolled over quickly only to find a large lump next to him in the bed.

 A large, groaning lump the approximate size and feel of a Shepard.

 Lifting his head a titch, he saw black and grey clothes strewn about on the floor, along with the hoodie he’d loaned to Shepard—brilliant blue in a sea of neutral tones. On the bedside table was Shepard’s phone, an assortment of coins, and a very familiar key.

 Shepard had used his key. He’d used it and slipped into bed—made himself comfortable in Kaidan’s space without asking his permission. Kaidan had hoped he’d use the key, but he never actually expected he would—and so soon. Only a few days after getting it here he was, lying in Kaidan’s bed, making a fuss about the alarm clock like a petulant child.

 He couldn’t help but take a few minutes out of his important morning hair prep-schedule to slide further down the mattress and under the blankets, planting himself against Shepard’s back, a kiss to his shoulder accompanying the motion.

 Shepard grunted slightly and immediately rolled his hips back, firmly placing his ass against Kaidan’s groin.

 “You used the key…” Kaidan mumbled, unable to help the grin spreading across his lips. Draping his arm over Shepard’s waist, he rubbed the trail of hair under his belly button, noting Shepard was entirely nude.

  _You’ve got a naked, warm, pliable boyfriend in your bed, Alenko, but you’ve also got a meeting up at the university to go to. The fates are cruel to you this day._

 “There was a raid of a homeless village outside my apartment last night…” Shepard said, voice muffled by his pillow.

 “Couldn’t sleep, I take it?”

 “Not with Jack bitching the entire time… she literally comes into my room, opens my window, and yells down the alleyway at the cops…”

 Kaidan cringed. “Yeah, I can see why you came here instead.”

 Shepard sighed and rolled over in Kaidan’s arms. His eyes were still closed, but his hands were finding the waistband of Kaidan’s sweatpants well enough without the added benefit of sight. Slipping his hands under the waistband, he grabbed Kaidan’s ass in a firm but gently hold, squeezing gently.

“Figured why not,” he said, voice no-less groggy. “Warm bed… soft sheets… a tight ass…”

 He squeezed again, before he slipped a finger between his ass cheeks to tease his hole. Kaidan groaned, eyes closing as his cock twitched inside the loose confines of his pajama bottoms. Shepard continued to rub his ass, strong hands rough with callouses sliding over sensitive skin. Kaidan could feel Shepard’s jaw against his collarbone, hot breath against his neck, the imprint of a grin pressed right against it.

  _Maybe if I go to work without styling my hair—_

 Kaidan’s alarm clock started screaming again, the snooze button having run its course. Jerking away from Shepard’s touch, Kaidan slammed his hand down on the off button before sitting up, desperate to get away from Shepard’s wandering hands before he turned up at school looking like he literally rolled out of bed—un-brushed teeth and messy hair included.

 “I’ve gotta get to campus. Meetings all day,” Kaidan said as he regretfully got out of bed, further distancing himself from Shepard’s siren call.

 “You sure?” Shepard asked. His eyes were closed again, and he was slowly making his way onto Kaidan’s side of the bed, face pressing into his pillow. He was already falling back asleep.

 “Positive - **P** rofessor Solus is coming in to see our progress, and if I bail Miranda will probably kill me.”

  _Probably meaning most definitely._

 Shepard hummed and rolled onto his side, effectively rolling himself up like a burrito in the blankets.

 He looked adorable.

 “Rain-check?”

 “I’ve got some stuff to do this afternoon and shit, but if you’re going to be around later tonight we can grab dinner. I’ll eat your ass, and you can… eat my dick. Or something.”

 Kaidan snorted and bent down to kiss Shepard’s temple. “How about we get actual dinner first?”

 Shepard grunted. “Go out for tapas? Be like your friends and shit.”

 Kaidan rolled his eyes. He’d broached the subject of Shepard going out with him on one of his ‘friends date’ nights, Liara, Ashley, and Tali all expressing their desire to see Shepard more and ‘get to know him’. Shepard always deflected the request as was his custom, but Kaidan could tell he was at least beginning to seriously think about it.

 “How about some sushi and some Asahi?”

 “What?”

 “Japanese beer.”

 “Oh…” Shepard curled further in on himself and let out a small huff. “Sounds good.”

 It was a struggle, but Kaidan ultimately overcame the urge to get back into bed with Shepard. Instead he headed to the washroom with only minor tenting in his pants, along with an ominous warning from the burrito in the bed.

 “I’m going to eat all your bacon while you’re gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I bought a gift for you all! Well, I commissioned an amazing artist (Dakotaliar) to draw our two favourite boys in the Downtown Eastside setting! Click the link if you fancy a gander (and I hope you enjoy): http://lorastyrell.com/post/153243733285/renlyslittlerose-dakotaliar-commission-art
> 
> And, as always, a gigantic thank you to all readers, and to Annaraven for fixing my inability to spell anything correctly.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't get a reply to your last review they are coming! I just have a throbbing migraine right now and can't look at the screen for too long.

 Shepard hated clinics.

 He hated the smell of bleach and antiseptic, the coughing of the sick person next to him, and the glazed over looks in the nurses’ eyes that told him they didn’t really care. But most of all, he hated needles.

 He’d been stabbed, cut, and beaten to within an inch of his life. He’d broken more bones than he could count and sprained a great many others, been concussed twice, and even been hit by a car. Most of them required some sort of medical treatment, and most of them never received it. Scars littered his body from wounds that never received stitches, and bones that weren’t set right and ached when the weather changed. The concussions and the car accident were the only ones that were treated, but even then Shepard had kicked up a stink about it, refusing the morphine drip and any numbing offered in favour of avoiding needles and the sickening stench of antiseptic.

 Shepard _hated_ needles.

 Which was why he was standing _outside_ the clinic Kaidan had booked an appointment with instead of actually going _in_.

 The clinic looked nicer than any of the others he’d been to, at least. It was clean and brightly lit, and Shepard could almost hear the slow-jam beats of the radio from behind the door. He hadn’t seen any of the nurses, but he figured they wouldn’t have the same dead expressions the ones at the walk-in downtown did.  

  _Feeling out of place in a fucking STI clinic? Really, Shepard?_

It was a new fucking low that was for sure.

 Still, he couldn’t help but look down at his boots and notice the scuff marks over the old black leather. He’d probably go in there and everyone would peg him as a walking-talking festering pile of STI’s and bad decisions.

 The latter was true, but the former…

 A part of Shepard figured there was no point in getting tested; he and Kaidan had been fucking for seven months and Shepard had ingested his fair share of Kaidan’s cum over the course of their relationship, Kaidan returning the favour time and time again. If he had anything, Kaidan would already be stuck with it.

 But the thought that he’d even _hypothetically_ given Kaidan an STI made Shepard feel sick.

 Shepard hated needles; he hated nurses; he hated the smell of antiseptic.

 But he loved Kaidan.

 And he sure as hell wanted anal without a condom.

 Taking a deep breath he steeled himself before he grabbed the handle and threw the door open with a confidence he wasn’t really feeling. Stepping in he gave the place a once-over, noting the lack of security guards and over-doses in the corner. It was spartan but clean, a flat-screen in the corner playing a morning talk show and Canadian Living magazines spread out across the tables. The cushions on the chairs hadn’t been picked apart or sat on so many times they’d collapsed, and the white tiled floor was sparkling despite the traffic flowing through.

 There were two sets of couples sitting in the chairs along the wall, hands on their laps and a decidedly embarrassed look about them, as if it was humiliating to get checked out for some disease of the dick or pussy. Shepard didn’t care about that; didn’t care about them.

 He cared about the needles.

 “Hey, John.”

 Shepard turned to see Kaidan in the corner, jacket on his lap and his phone out. He looked stressed.

 Deciding to Get the Fuck Over Himself, he approached Kaidan and bent down to give him a quick kiss, ignoring the skip of his heart as he tripped over the thought of doing this in public. He didn’t do PDA—just wasn’t his style. But Kaidan…

 Kaidan was irresistible, in public and out of it.

 “Hey,” he mumbled when they pulled away. He caught the slight surprise on Kaidan’s face, but soaked up the little smile he sent him soon after.

 “You should go sign in—they’ve got a form you need to fill out,” Kaidan said, nodding his head toward the desk. He winced slightly—just the barest tension visible around his eye and the corner of his mouth—and it was then Shepard knew it wasn’t stress he’d seen. Kaidan had a migraine.

 Shepard did as instructed, noting the genuine smile from the nurse as he gave her his name and collected his form. He still wasn’t used to people just being nice for the sake of it. Returning to Kaidan with his clipboard he sat down beside him and knocked their knees together, momentarily ignoring his sheet in favour of checking on Kaidan.

 “Migraine?” he asked quietly.

 “Mm, yeah… can’t take any medication, either,” he said, sighing. He leaned on Shepard’s shoulder, eyes closing.

 “How come?”

 “Messes with the blood work. I’ll take some once we’re done, though. Then maybe get a coffee or something before my meeting with Miranda.”

 “I thought coffee made it worse,” Shepard said.

 Kaidan sighed again, head tilting back to rest on the wall. “I’m already feeling like shit—coffee won’t do anything to make it worse than it already is. Besides… it tastes good.”

 “Like drinking beer to cure a hangover.”

 Kaidan chuckled. “Yeah, definitely.”

 Shepard filled his form out in silence, propping up Kaidan who was doing his best impression of a limp doll. He finished and returned it to the front desk as quickly as he could, wanting to sit back down with Kaidan.

 Kaidan had gone back to his phone when Shepard returned, bleary eyes focusing on what looked like multiple emails.

“Busy at university?” he asked. In another rare act of affection he rested his hand on Kaidan’s knee, rubbing the muscles and using the motion as a way by which to focus on something other than needles.

 “Yeah… lots of stuff to do…” Kaidan said, a tad distracted as he scrolled through the emails. Opening up one, he huffed and dropped the phone back down onto his lap, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 “Anything I can do to help?” Shepard asked.

 One of the women was called in then, and Shepard caught her eye as she passed, a small, nervous smile on her lips as she followed the nurse into the back.

_Probably hates needles too. Glad I’m not alone…_

Dropping his hand down onto his lap, Kaidan opened his eyes but kept his head perfectly still, gaze on the cream coloured walls. “Nah, I just need… I just need to get through this.”

 “Think of the coffee. Do it for the coffee,” he said, and Kaidan smiled.

 “John Shepard?”

 Shepard practically jumped when the nurse called his name, and he wrenched his neck to the side to get a good look at her as she stood in the doorway leading to the back room—or to the torture chamber, as he liked to call it. She was wearing bright pink scrubs and had her hair pulled back in a purple scrunchy, everything soft and gentle about her.

 But he knew what she had planned.

_It’s just a quick pinch and that’s it. You’ve seen yourself bleed before—a whole fucking lot. Remember getting hit by the car? The road-rash was insane. If you survived that you can stand to see some squirt into a tube and—okay no. No, don’t think about it. Think about Kaidan’s ass and how good it’ll feel to get deep inside without a barrier. Think about his_ ass _and stop being such a fucking pussy._

 “Can my dude come with me?” _My dude? What?_ “I mean my partner.”

 “If he’d like to, that’s fine,” she said, and Shepard could tell she was trying very hard not to laugh at his ‘dude’ comment.

 “I’m fine with coming,” Kaidan said. “I gotta get tested too so two birds, right?”

 They followed her into the back, Shepard eying up the doorways as they passed them, noting they all had a horrible hospital feel to them. She stopped at the last room on the left and let them inside, saying she’d be right back before shutting the door—effectively locking them inside.

 The room was sparse—a counter with a sink and a yellow bin for the needles to go in. Gloves and cotton balls were contained in glass tubes, and a series of empty blood vials were laid out neatly in a row just waiting to take all of Shepard’s blood. There was a seat next to the counter with large armrests on either side, and Shepard guessed that was where he was to sit.

 “You okay?” Kaidan asked, taking the chair shoved in the corner away from all of the sharp objects.

 Shepard turned to see Kaidan was giving him a critical once-over, bushy brows furrowed as he stared at his face.

 “I’m fine,” Shepard said, and tossed Kaidan his jacket. Getting up on the seat he tried to get comfortable but it was almost impossible what with the smell of used cotton swabs invading his senses. Bouncing his leg up and down, he fiddled with the chain around his neck, tugging at the metal until it dug into the skin.

 “Do you not like needles?” Kaidan asked after a time.

 Shepard shrugged. “Nah I just… they’re weird. I don’t like shit sticking out my skin.”

 Kaidan chuckled and stood up. Grabbing Shepard’s hand, he rubbed the tattoo near his thumb. “What’s this then, eh?”

 “Tattoo needles are different,” Shepard said a tad defensively. He didn’t take his hand back, however, and continued to let Kaidan play with it, thumb still rubbing over the omega symbol.

 “How is it different?”

 “You don’t actually see the needles—not unless you’re really looking for it,” Shepard explained. “Besides, the needle doesn’t stay _inside_.”

 Kaidan smiled a tad patronizingly, and Shepard rolled his eyes and slouched further in the chair.

 “Hey… hey, look at me, John.”

 Shepard hesitated a moment before looking over at him. “What?”

 “If you sit still for this I’ll buy you an ice cream afterward.”

 “Oh fuck off,” Shepard said, laughing despite himself. Kaidan smirked and brought his hand up to give his tattoo a quick kiss. Shepard twisted his hand at the last second so Kaidan kissed the inside of his palm instead.

 “Just think of all the amazing sex we’ll have after this,” Kaidan said as he returned to his chair.

 “And ice cream.”

 The nurse returned then, a series of packaged Q-tips in her hand and what Shepard assumed was Kaidan’s file. She got to work setting everything up, and Shepard busied himself with his necklace once more. She seemed to take forever, her movements agonizingly slow as she put on her gloves and grabbed a blue elastic band from her collection of torture devices.

 “Right or left?” she asked.

 “Left,” he said, placing his arm upright on the pillowed rest. Curling his hand into a fist, he watched as she wrapped the elastic around his arm and began tapping away at the veins. Rubbing his skin with an alcohol wipe, Shepard turned his head and stopped breathing for a second, hating the smell.

 “Hey—John.”

 Shepard opened his eyes and looked over at Kaidan, brow quirked.

 “What—”

 She jabbed the needle in, and Shepard held back a yelp.

 “You wanna go to a cancer fundraiser with me? Be my date?” Kaidan asked, acting like Shepard didn’t have a needle sticking out of his arm with fountains of blood gushing into the vial.

 “A fundraiser?” he asked, desperately trying to ignore the feeling of the needle in his vein.

 “Yeah. It’s a big event that I go to every year—you get to dress up, eat and drink a bunch of free food and alcohol, and convince really rich people to spend all their money on a silent auction. Proceeds go to cancer research.”

 The nurse had filled one vial as Kaidan spoke and started up a second. Shepard honestly felt like he’d pass out if he looked at it instead of Kaidan’s lips.

 “You gotta wear like, suits and shit?” he asked, relaxing somewhat when the nurse released the elastic from around his arm. She was still collecting blood.

 “Yeah—you think you can handle that?”

 Shepard shrugged with his free shoulder. “Maybe. When is it?”

 “April twenty-second. You don’t have to answer now—just thought I’d give you a heads-up.”

 And a distraction.

 The nurse finished up soon after, the last vial full and the needle pulled out without rupturing any major arteries. She pushed a cotton swab down on the puncture wound and topped it off with a Band-Aid, Shepard watching it all with no small amount of relief.

 “You’re done the hard part,” she said, smiling gently as she ripped open the Q-tip package. “Open up and I’ll swab your cheek.”

 He did as instructed, staring up at the ceiling as she poked the inside of his cheek gently. Capping the swab, she rested it on top of his file and stood back.

 “All done?” he asked, already half-way off the chair.

 “All done,” she repeated.

 Kaidan’s seemed to take half the time his did, hopping up onto the chair and then off almost immediately. As soon as the blood was taken and the spit sample collected he was on his way to the bathroom, a bottle of painkillers in his grasp.

 “Your results should come to you in the mail in about a week,” the nurse explained as she signed off on a few things.

 Shepard nodded as he put his jacket on, trying not to grimace as the Band-Aid on his arm tugged at his skin. He waited for Kaidan in the lobby next to the door, busy mulling over the invitation he’d received while being ritually blood let.  

 Kaidan’s invitation didn’t sound appealing if Shepard was being truthful. Standing around in an uncomfortable suit, trying to make small-talk with a group of people he had literally nothing in common with, was definitely on his list of ‘Shit I Don’t Want to Do’—right under ‘Give Blood’ and ‘Visit Hospitals’. But if Kaidan wanted him to go…

 He knew he needed to make an effort at fitting himself into Kaidan’s world—a world he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with and probably never would be. Kaidan had made the attempt himself by visiting Palaven and hanging out with his friends, and it was high-time he tried the same.

 He just wished he could do it in a pair of baggy jeans and Kaidan’s favourite hoodie.

 “I’m ready for coffee,” Kaidan said as he came out from the back, Shepard immediately swinging the door open and stepping out.

 “You feeling any better?” Shepard asked, falling in step with him.

 Kaidan made a noise in the back of his throat and squinted as the light from outside hit him square between the eyes.

_Evidently not._

Pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket, Shepard passed them to Kaidan. He took them without a moment’s pause and put them on, thanking Shepard quietly. He looked a little unsteady on his feet—like he’d just been overbalanced with a stack of his PhD notes—and Shepard could see he was trying hard not to careen into the stream of people walking in the opposite direction.

 Taking his hand in his own, Shepard tugged him back to him and kept him pressed close to his side, squeezing down on his hand in order to keep him steady.

 “Thanks,” Kaidan repeated, and rearranged their hands so their fingers were tangled together.

 Shepard led him to the nearest coffee place, helping him inside and not making a Corey Heart reference when he kept his sunglasses on.

 “You know what you want?” he asked, eying a table over in the corner—far away from anyone else.

 “Café misto with the blonde roast,” Kaidan mumbled.

 Shepard nodded and nudged Kaidan toward the table. “Go take a seat and I’ll bring it to you.”

 “You sure?” Kaidan asked, but seemed to realize it was stupid to ask. They both knew he was pain; there was no pretending otherwise.

 He shuffled off to the table and collapsed in the chair with his back to the window, fingers slipping up under the sunglasses’ frame to press against his eye. Shepard watched to make sure he got seated alright before approaching the counter with a crumpled five in his hand.

 “I’ll get a café misto with the uh… blonde roast or whatever,” he said to the barista.

 “What size?” the boy asked, braces flashing under the lights.

 “Whatever your medium is.”

 “Grande.”

 “Yeah, that.”

 The store wasn’t terribly busy and the drink arrived quickly, his name spelled incorrectly on the cup as Shephard.

 Grabbing a couple of sugar packets and a stir-stick, he sat down across from Kaidan and pushed the drink in front of him.

 “There you go,” he said softly, leaning forward on the table so Kaidan wouldn’t have to speak up to be heard.

 “Thanks,” Kaidan said, dropping his hand on to the table. He got to work preparing the coffee, lips pulled tight and nostrils flaring now and again. Shepard watched helplessly, hating that Kaidan was in so much pain and being unable to just _fix_ it.

 But maybe he could help in other ways…

 “I’ll go with you,” he said, then elaborated when Kaidan quirked a brow. “To the fundraiser, I mean. I’ll be your date or whatever.”

 Kaidan hummed and slowly stirred the sugar into the frothy milk and coffee. He didn’t look as happy as Shepard hoped he would.

 “You do still want me to go, yeah?” he asked slowly.

 “Yeah, of course,” Kaidan said. “I just… didn’t tell you everything.”

_Oh._

 “Is it like… a police event or something?”

 Kaidan smiled slightly. “Do you honestly think I’d invite you to a police banquet?”

 “I dunno—you’re into wrestling in bed, K. You might also be into seeing me get tackled by twenty men in uniform.”

 Kaidan laughed then immediately seemed to regret it, wincing when a spike of pain shot through his head. He took a sip of the coffee and held it close to his nose, top lip resting against the rim of the cup.

 “It’s not a police thing, but… my mum is going to be there.”

_Double oh. Double fucking oh._

 The tiny amount of excitement he’d worked up for the event evaporated in an instant, and Shepard was left with an increasing sense of doubt and a heavy amount of reluctance. He really didn’t want to go to the event in the first place, and the thought of meeting Kaidan’s mother had just added to his anxiety. Now he wouldn’t just be in an uncomfortable suit attempting to fit in with the elites of Vancouver—now he’d be in an uncomfortable suit attempting to fit in with the elites of Vancouver, while also trying to impress his partner’s mother.

 He supposed he couldn’t run from this forever. Kaidan wanted to make Shepard a part of his life, and that life came with parents. Parents who evidently wanted to meet him.

 “I’ve uh… I’ve ever met anyone’s parents before,” he said slowly, unsure if he was trying to talk himself or Kaidan out of it. “I’m probably going to fuck it all up; you know that, right?”

 Kaidan sighed. “You’re not going to fuck it up; you probably won’t even have _time_ to fuck it up. She’s one of the people on the board of directors—she’s going to be so busy keeping everything on track that she’ll probably only see us once or twice. Just say hello, shake her hand, let her give you the critical once-over, and then we’re free to enjoy the evening. Remember, Shepard—free food and drink.”

 “Free beer?”

 “Whatever you want.”

 Shepard pursed his lips and pressed his finger down on a grain of sugar on the table.

_Do it for him. He’s your ‘dude’._

 “What the hell—I’m in.”

 Kaidan smiled—bright and without pain—and Shepard couldn’t help but move in for a sweet kiss that tasted of coffee.

 “Thanks, John,” Kaidan repeated when they broke apart. Sitting back in his chair, he cupped his hands around his drink. “These events are always a bit stuffy, but the people watching can be great. We’ll get drunken soccer moms and husbands with too much money and something to prove, the occasional family feud breaking out… it’s all good fun.”

 “I’m sure we’ll have the entire room talking,” Shepard said, smirking. “They’ll all be wondering who that Alenko boy has shown up with—the hot one with the badass scar on his scalp.”

 “We’ll only have to attend for a couple of hours—make an appearance, say hello to some people, and then we can go,” Kaidan continued, smiling freely. The medication must have been kicking in, because he took Shepard’s sunglasses off and passed them back.

 “Yeah? And then what will we do with the rest of the evening?” he asked, slipping them back into his coat pocket.

 “I’m sure we can think of something to do. Maybe in the back of my car in fancy suits.”

 Sex without a condom in the back of a BMW. Now _that_ Shepard could get excited about.

 

XX

 The streets of the Eastside were crawling with cops. Everywhere Shepard looked there seemed to be a cruiser rolling by or a couple of cops on their feet patrolling, stopping to speak to the locals and look like they actually gave a shit. Shepard would sit on the steps of his apartment and watch them go by, locking eyes and keeping them locked with those who thought they could intimidate him off of his own fucking street.

 Someone had tipped them off to the rising tension between Omega and Blood Pack—there was just no two-ways about it. They usually didn’t give a shit beyond making their quota, and Shepard had seen a kid bleed out on the streets for twenty minutes before the cops showed up to pull the kid’s mum off of the body.

 They didn’t give a shit unless the mayor gave a shit, and that didn’t happen unless someone started making noise. And even then, they didn’t act on anything until they had a ‘reliable’ source. No one was reliable to them unless they lived down there, which meant that Downtown Eastside had a snitch on their hands.

 Shepard didn’t care.

 He hadn’t cared what was going on in the Eastside for a while now. He felt like an old factory worker just putting in the time until retirement, only his retirement would probably come in the form of life-long incarceration or a bullet between the eyes.

 No matter how many times Kaidan told him he had more to look forward to, Shepard kept things realistic. There were no happy endings for an Eastside kid.

_‘You’ve checked out,_ ’ Jack had said when he came back from Banff. He didn’t bother denying it.

 Stepping over a passed out homeless woman, Shepard looked up just in time to see two cops leave Palaven, badges flashing under the sunlight proclaiming their allegiance to their paycheck and brutality on their chests. They locked eyes with Shepard but made no move to accost him, instead heading down the other way at a slow, easy pace.

 Shepard watched them go before shoving his way into the bar, the corner of the door always sticking on the floor.

  _If they fucked with my bar…_

“What the fuck were the cops doing here?” Shepard asked loudly and to no one in particular.

 “They were looking for a James Herder,” Garrus said over his shoulder as he headed back to the bar with a series of used shot glasses dangling from his fingers. “Said they got the wrong guy—I only know a John Shepard.”

 Shepard rolled his eyes and followed Garrus into the back. “No seriously—why were they here?”

 “You’re not allowed back here,” Garrus said, dropping the glasses into the sink. Turning around he leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

 Shepard didn’t leave.

 “They were checking my liquor license,” Garrus finally said. Pushing off of the sink, he went back into the main part of the bar, pointing at the stool in front of the counter. “Sit.”

 Shepard did as instructed and accepted the shot of whiskey offered. Kaidan always ordered it when he visited, and Shepard had become accustomed to it.

 “You’re more paranoid than usual—what’s got you so bugged?” Garrus asked.

 Shepard knocked back the shot, the quick burn of the alcohol brushing away the foul taste the cops had left in his mouth. “I’m a gang member in a neighborhood crawling in cops—what’s not to be paranoid about?”

 “You’ve noticed more cops around?” Garrus asked.

 “You haven’t?”

 Garrus shrugged and went to wiping down the counter. “Guess I’m not as trained to the scent of doughnuts and coffee.”

 “Try running from them for a couple of months—you’ll get there.”

 “Right, and while I do that why don’t you tell me what _else_ is bothering you.”

 Shepard pointed to his glass and Garrus dutifully topped it up. Drinking it, he patted his chest and rubbed the brick the rest of the way down.

 “Gotta meet Kaidan’s mum,” he wheezed out.

 “Shit. I mean, when you’re normal meeting the boyfriend’s mum can be a challenge—but a guy like you… damn, Shepard. Good luck.”

 Shepard snorted and slid the glass down the table toward the backroom. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

 “Well if it’s any consolation, Joker almost literally got kicked out of Edi’s parents’ house when he asked for her hand in marriage.”

 “That’s not comforting.”

 “Okay, how about this: I think they were serious about asking the Dutch government to permanently ban him from entering the country again. At least you’re a Canadian citizen—they can’t kick you out of your own country if you do something really idiotic.”

 Shepard groaned and rested his head against the clean counter, Garrus grunting disapprovingly.

 “You know what else I did today?” he asked, closing his eyes as the whiskey worked its magic.

 “What?” Garrus’ voice was distant, and Shepard could hear the clinking of bottles.

 “I got tested with Kaidan.”

 “For any potential mental disabilities?”

 “Fuck off—no. Got tested for HIV and shit. So we can have sex without a condom.” He lifted his head and rubbed his cheek, wiping away the cleaner. “First I’m getting tested, then I’m agreeing to go to a fancy event where I gotta wear a tie and shit, and now I’m going to meet Kaidan’s mum. Like, what the fuck am I doing?”

 Garrus paused his bottle dusting and turned to look at Shepard, a small smirk on his lips. “You’re getting serious, dude. You’re in _love_.”

 Shepard pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, resisting the urge to let out a groan. It was true—he was so in love with Kaidan fucking Alenko that he was turning _traditional_. He was agreeing to a traditional relationship with traditional boundaries and traditional communication. Gone were the days of quick fucks and abusive relationships, where the kisses hurt and the guilt wouldn’t leave.

 Now what he had was the knowledge that he was loved and supported, and that despite how fucked up he was someone still wanted him—Kaidan still wanted him, with his scars and his shit manners, and his stupid fucking phobia of needles. He wanted him enough to introduce him to his parents for Christ sakes.

 It was terrifying; it was an unknown.

 And God help him, Shepard liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Annaraven for the beta work! 
> 
> Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go die from a migraine. Just like Kaidan! I'm meta.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of cancer and graphic depictions of migraine symptoms.

 Kaidan couldn’t make sense of the numbers before him.

 Not in the sense of the numbers not adding up or providing viable data, but in the sense of he couldn’t _read_ them. They kept wavering before him, the sevens and fives turning into an S, and the lines between the data criss-crossing so much that he struggled to focus on the white of the paper let alone the jumble of black squiggles that were supposed to be numbers. He gripped his highlighter with a noticeable tremor, fear and annoyance boiling over as he desperately tried to pretend everything was _okay_.

The day had started out fine. He’d come into the lab and poked away at samples, breakfast sitting comfortably in his stomach and the vestiges of Shepard’s scent still in his nose. He’d been waking up with migraines more frequently than not, but today—today had been different.

 Or so he thought. Mid-morning and the tremble arrived, along with the dancing numbers and octopus leg lines. He couldn’t concentrate, his brain tripping over itself to keep up with simple thought processes. He’d taken all of his medication—even texted Shepard to check to see if he’d used up his ‘Wednesday’ slot like he thought he had.

 Shepard gave him an affirmative, complete with a picture of his empty pill counter.

 Everything _should_ have been right.

 But it wasn’t.  

“Some of the… some of the data is… it’s…”

 “Kaidan, are you alright?”

 Miranda’s concerned voice slipped into his consciousness, but it took him a moment to figure out what she’d said.

 He looked up from his notes, noting the twinge in his eye as the florescent lights shot into his skull. It was then while he was peering at Miranda’s pinched expression that the aura began to creep into his vision. It was a large black dot that slipped in on his left, his sight going fuzzy before he blinked it back to clarity.

 It didn’t last.

 “I uh… I’m just getting a migraine,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

 He heard Miranda get up, heels clicking on the tiled floor. He continued to steady his breathing, hoping maybe if he just worked hard enough it would go away before it came. But the tell-tale signs were all there; the auras, the pain down his neck and across his shoulders, and the sudden exhaustion.

 He’d not been hit with so many migraines since…

 Miranda’s footsteps neared and he opened his eyes to see her placing a cup of water down in front of him.

 “Got any medication?” she asked, already bending over to open up his top drawer. She found a bottle of pills and opened the bottle, shaking out two before passing them to Kaidan.

 “Thanks,” he mumbled, taking them under her watchful eye. He could see she was nervous. She did a fine job of trying to cover it up, but years of being mothered and he could catch the signs well enough.

 Usually he’d shrug it off. But this wasn’t usual.

 “I gotta go home,” he said, capping his highlighter.

_Don’t panic; you’ll only make it worse._

 “Did you need a ride?” Miranda asked.

 He shook his head—slow and careful—while he pulled out his phone to call the only person he could trust with this.

“I know someone nearby who can pick me up,” he explained, and sent Miranda a tight smile as the phone began to ring.

 She nodded hesitantly. Kaidan could see she wasn’t convinced by his smile—or grimace, more like.

 He could only imagine how he looked right now; one eye shut, skin pale, and jaw tight despite knowing it was only making the tension in his neck worse. But years of living day to day desperately trying to keep his illness under control had conditioned him to worry about _others_ when he got like this. He went out of his way to convince everyone that he was alright; that they shouldn’t worry because he was going to be okay, no matter how shitty he looked at the present moment.

 Even as a kid, chemicals being pumped into a body wracked with pain, he tried to make his visitors feel comfortable, hating the pitying, scared looks they gave him. It was the only control he had over his situation, and so he clung to the illusion of strength even when he was falling apart both physically and emotionally.

 “Hello?”

 “Hey, Liara… it’s Kaidan. Are you uh, busy?”

 “Just doing some research in the library,” she replied, voice a bit more breathy than usual. “Why? You sound unwell.”

 Kaidan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, the pain arriving despite the pills he’d just knocked back.

_Didn’t catch it soon enough._

 “I was wondering if you could maybe give me a lift home. I’m… I’m feeling a bit uh… crappy.”

 Liara didn’t wait even a beat before replying. “Of course. Where are you? I’ll come right away.”

XX

 On the car ride home the migraine arrived in full, the dull ache turning into a horrendous roar. He felt like someone had cracked his skull in half and was slowly pouring molten lava through the space they’d managed to make. His left eye throbbed with each beat of his heart, and his nose felt like he’d just been punched full on, the pain leaking out of his eye and pooling in the centre.

 He kept his eyes closed and head rested against the window, trying not to grimace anytime Liara went over the smallest of bumps. Traffic was mercifully light, and they arrived in quick order—just in time for Kaidan to step out of her car and vomit all over the parkade floor.

 Liara didn’t make a fuss when it happened, simply walked around the puddle and took his arm, gently guiding him toward the elevator. The building was impossibly bright, Kaidan’s sunglasses doing fuck-all to hide the light, but Liara was guiding him so well he found he could keep his eyes shut and trust her to get him home.

 She did—and with only minor fumbling.

 Reaching his apartment Liara lead him to his bedroom, opening and closing doors like they were made of delicate glass. All the while Kaidan tried desperately to fight the pain back, the taste of bile in his mouth and the persistent throbbing made worse by each footstep. As soon as they got to his bedroom he began undressing, not caring that Liara was still there and only thinking about lying down—finally.

 Liara just busied herself by closing all the curtains—drawing a physical barrier between him and the outside world. As soon as the drapes were drawn he took off his sunglasses and sank into his bed carefully and steadily.

_Any rushed movement and there’ll be a parkade repeat._

 He didn’t hear Liara leave but knew she had. All he could hear was the heavy thrum of blood pumping through his skull, and the occasional car horn down below. Trying his best to relax, Kaidan waited wearily for his brain to decide he’d be best to weather the storm in his sleep, hoping it decided sooner rather than later.

XX

When Kaidan woke the world was quiet.

 Light that had tried to get through his curtains had slipped well beyond the horizon, his room completely and utterly dark when he opened his eyes. Staying completely still, he assessed the situation as best he could without accidentally triggering something.

 The throbbing had subsided, as had the burning sensation down his neck and the bridge of his nose. When he rolled over the usual spike of pain wasn’t there, although he could feel the migraine pressing hesitantly against the barrier his drugs had created.

 Kaidan concluded that the migraine was still present, but the drugs were doing a fine job of blocking the pain.

And basic mental faculties.

 He felt _stunned_. Looking at his alarm clock, Kaidan struggled to make sense of the numbers, unsure whether they read 6:23 in the morning or evening, and failing to remember that the little green dot in the upper corner signified PM.

 Still, the pain was gone for now, and he wasn’t about to squander the opportunity to brush his teeth. He’d almost forgotten he’d thrown up, but the taste and film in his mouth was quick to remind him. He brushed his teeth in the dark, washing away the taste of stale bile and breakfast. Stumbling into his bedroom he dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and the shirt Shepard had given him for Christmas, thumb and forefinger rubbing the hem gently.

As he did this he mulled over what all of this could mean. The migraines were so frequent and powerful that he struggled to recall a time when he didn’t have one. Three weeks? A month? Every day was the same; wake, take medication, toss back pill after pill after pill until he was so stunned he didn’t feel anything, and wait until morning when he’d do it all again. The scientific part of his mind—the _rational_ part—tried to come up with an explanation. It could just be the change in the seasons, or perhaps stress. Maybe he was sick with something and it was manifesting itself in other ways.

 But the irrational part—the little kid part— kept reminding him of the last time this had happened…

 The distant sound of female laughter broke Kaidan from his thoughts. There was a warm stream of light coming in from the crack under the door to his bedroom, and Kaidan followed it with great care, ever mindful that any sudden movements could bring the migraine back in full swing. Opening the door, he wandered down the hallway as two familiar voices carried through from the kitchen.

 Rounding the corner he was greeted with a rather peculiar sight. Sitting at his kitchen table were Liara and Shepard, heads bowed as they peered over a chess table. Neither of them seemed to notice his intrusion and so he stayed where he was, watching the lion play with the lamb.

 They were chatting softly, Liara waving her hand above the pieces and pointing at a few. Shepard’s brows were furrowed, and he looked rather… studious.

 “—and so if you moved your knight—”

 “That will just get my castle picked off,” Shepard interjected. He pointed to the black Rook and drew a line across to the white Bishop.

 “True. You’re right,” Liara replied. Kaidan swore he detected a hint of pride in her voice.

 It seemed Liara was teaching Shepard how to play chess. The sight itself was both confusing but also a bit sweet. He knew Liara wasn’t Shepard’s number one fan, her protective streak making it hard for her to judge him by his character and not where he lived and what he did. But it seemed even she was willing to let certain things slide for the sake of friendship.

 “Kaidan!”

 Liara noticed him first, but it was Shepard who practically leapt from his seat and hurried over. Immediately Kaidan’s cheeks were cupped and a pair of very concerned blue eyes looked him over.

 “Hey, K, you alright?” Shepard asked, thumb stroking Kaidan’s cheek gently.

 The movement was altogether soothing, and Kaidan gripped Shepard’s wrists gently, mimicking the movement against his pulse points.

 “Yeah, I’m alright,” he answered. Closing his eyes he sighed, the act of speaking still a bit difficult. He felt like he’d just been hit by a train. His pain medications were more like horse tranquilizers.

 “You sure?”

_No._

 “Yeah, I’m good,” he said. Opening his eyes, he smiled tightly, trying to get Shepard to relax.

 Shepard nodded, although he could tell that, once again, his smile was entirely unconvincing. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that because Shepard was kissing him—just a simple press of their lips together that grounded Kaidan further.

 Liara stood from the table and hovered about in Kaidan’s periphery, hands wrapped around a glass of water she was pretending to be incredibly interested in. Drawing away from Shepard, he pulled her in for a quick hug, one she returned.

 “Thanks for getting me home,” he said, rubbing her back. Her short blond hair tickled his nose, but it was preferable to the pain that had been spiking through it earlier.

 “It’s no problem.” Pulling away, she patted his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re alright? Do you need any prescription refills or anything?”

 “Nah, I’m good. Really, Liara—it’s fine. I’ve had them before.”

 “But not like…” she sighed and nodded. “Alright—if you insist you’re okay then I’ll trust you.”

 “We got some pizza if you’re hungry,” Shepard said, nodding his head toward the fridge. “Pepperoni, bacon, and mushroom—your favourite.”

 “Yeah, maybe in a little bit. I’m still…” he waved his hand about his head, “waking up.”

 “I should probably get going,” said Liara. She was already halfway to the door, and Kaidan could tell she was still frazzled by what had happened. She’d kept it together during but he’d been asleep for so long she’d evidently had time to think about it.

 And he knew what she was thinking.

  _This is just like last time._

 “Thanks for the chess lesson,” Shepard said, nodding his head at the unfinished game.

 Liara smiled—a genuine one. “It was a pleasure. We’ll have to finish it up next time.”

 “I’ll walk you out,” Kaidan said. He followed her down the hallway, paying careful attention to the pain in his head.

 It was still manageable.

 “Promise me you’ll call if things change?” she said once she’d finished putting on her shoes.

 “Promise,” he said, and stuck his pinkie out to her.  She wrapped hers around his and they both squeezed.

 She was almost out the door when she stopped, Kaidan narrowly missing shutting the door on her hand.

 “I hope you don’t mind I called Shepard,” she said, oblivious to the almost hand murder.

 Kaidan paused and tilted his head to the side. He’d thought Shepard had just wandered over like he was wont to do after work. The fact that Liara had called him was…

 Well, he’d have sooner believed pigs could fly, honestly.

 “You called him?”

 She nodded. “His number was on your fridge and I thought he would like to know. I didn’t get more than a few words out before he said he was coming. He’s been here waiting with me for hours.”

 “Hence the chess game.”

 She nodded. “He’s actually very good at it. If I hadn’t known better, I’d say he’s played it before.”

 Kaidan smiled. “He’s got, uh… layers. He’ll surprise you.”

 Liara’s gaze dropped for a moment then, bottom lip sucked between her teeth before she looked back up at him. “He said you two were going to the cancer fundraiser your mother helps run.”

 “Yeah, we’re going to try the ‘meet the parents’ thing. I figured my mum would be a good… preliminary test before I introduce him to my dad.”

 Liara nodded, her hand dropping from the doorframe. “Your father isn’t going to be happy, you know.”

 “I’m not going to tell him what Shepard does for a living.”

 “He’ll know, Kaidan,” she said forcefully. “He’s probably seen Shepard a few times on the streets. He’s not a fool.”

 “What’s your point, Liara?” he asked. He could feel the start of the migraine again, and wanted to stop the uncomfortable truth of Liara’s words from sinking in too much.

 “I’m just… I don’t know, honestly,” she admitted. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. Shepard never said as such, but I know he’s scared to meet your parents.”

 Kaidan resisted the urge to utter ‘no shit’ and instead nodded. “Got it. Anything else?”

 “If you’re still trying to get him to go back to school, you should suggest the military to him. He’s got a strategist’s mind. Anyway, you should probably go tend to him. He’s been pacing like a madman.”

 They said their goodbyes once again, Kaidan surprised by the strange mix of approval and disapproval from Liara. He waited in the doorway until she’d caught the elevator before retreating back into the cool darkness of his apartment. The only light in the house was coming from the kitchen, and it was with some reluctance that he returned, brain still threatening to throw another hissy-fit.

 Shepard was back at the table, finger pressed into the top of the black Knight piece as he wiggled it around. He had that studious expression back, and Kaidan wondered if he’d figured out a way to beat Liara.

 “We could take a picture of it so you can set it up like that next time you see Liara,” Kaidan said, going to get a glass of water.

 “I’m good,” he said, groaning as he stood with his hands high above his head in a stretch. “I was going to win eventually.”

 Kaidan chugged the entire glass, and by the time he was done Shepard had slinked up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist as they stood next to the sink. He rested his chin on Kaidan’s shoulder, small kisses applied to the side of his neck.

 They’d gotten their results back from the STI tests a few weeks ago, and since then something had… changed. Shepard was more comfortable in the knowledge of their health, and showed his affections more freely, his actions stemming from love rather than pure lust.  

 Kaidan guessed it took something as base as bareback sex for their relationship to become less sexual and more… casual. Natural— like everything didn’t _have_ to end in sex (although Kaidan wasn’t going to pass up a chance to fool around with Shepard).

 Or maybe Kaidan was just entirely too much of a romantic.

 “How are you feeling?” Shepard asked after Kaidan had downed a second glass.

 “Alright,” he said.

 “Liara said you threw up all over the parkade like a drunk.”

 Kaidan chuckled and rested his hands overtop Shepard’s. “Yeah… not one of my finer moments.”

 “Was it because of the pain or…”

 Kaidan could hear the twinge of fear amidst the curiosity, and he hated it. Shepard wasn’t supposed to be here when this shit happened. He was Kaidan’s safe place—the person he ran to in order to feel normal. He didn’t like being fussed over like this, and didn’t like that it was Shepard who was doing it. Shepard: the strong, stoic type who didn’t let shit like this get to him, who shrugged off fear and anxiety and beat the shit out of them, and who didn’t hold on to Kaidan like he might snap at the slightest of pressures.

 Shepard never treated him like he was fragile or sick. But now he was. And that worried Kaidan.

 Shepard knew him better than anyone else did at this point. They were connected, mind, body, and soul, and whatever Kaidan was feeling Shepard was too. And if Shepard was scared, Kaidan knew he was doing a piss poor job of hiding his own fears.

 “Just a side-effect,” he explained. Turning around in Shepard’s arms, he hugged him as an excuse to close his eyes. “It’s happened before—don’t worry about it. Please.”

 Shepard’s chest rumbled, but he didn’t press the subject. Instead he rubbed Kaidan’s back—big broad up-and-down strokes that turned Kaidan into putty. The migraine and the panic it inspired in everyone wasn’t entirely worth Shepard’s hug, but it was certainly a positive side-benefit.

 “Nice shirt,” Shepard said after a good five minutes of hugging.

 Kaidan smiled and pulled away. Playing with the collar he brought it up to his nose for a quick sniff. “Smells more like me than you at this point.”

 “Want me to wear it tonight?”

 Kaidan kissed him.

XX

 Leftover pizza, beer, and an action movie capped off the rather shitty day. Shepard had shed his doctor’s coat and started treating Kaidan like he was a human rather than some sick patient liable to die at any moment, and Kaidan found he’d relaxed long enough to forget about his fears of recurrence. The food and drink had made him tired once again, and he dozed off during the movie, waking only to find he’d drooled all over Shepard’s shoulder.

 “Sorry,” he mumbled, lifting his head and brushing the spit from his cheek.

 “It’s cool,” Shepard replied.

 Kaidan realized Shepard had been playing with his hair while he slept, because the pleasing tingle in his scalp was gone as soon as he’d moved. Instead he was left with the vestiges of something pleasant, mixed in with the leftover numbness of the migraine.

 “Bed time?” Shepard asked.

 “Shower time,” Kaidan mumbled as he stood up. Rubbing his eyes, he yawned. “Then bed time.”

 Shepard followed him into the washroom, hovering behind him like a second shadow. They both stripped, and Kaidan was not at all surprised to find himself in another hug once they’d stepped under the warm spray. Returning the embrace, Kaidan kept his back to the water, letting the jets pound against his tense shoulders and across his skull, washing away the daze and pain of the day.

 Shepard moved away and returned with Kaidan’s shampoo, and poured a generous amount on top of his head. Kaidan was about to protest, not wanting the coddling to return, but as soon as Shepard started massaging his scalp and the crisp, minty scent of his shampoo nestled itself into the steam from the shower, Kaidan was powerless to protest. Shepard’s fingers were gentle and yet applied just the right amount of pressure, and Kaidan closed his eyes and rested his hands on Shepard’s hips, using him as support as the knots were worked free.

 “You’re so good at that,” Kaidan mumbled, moaning softly as his fingers trailed down the back of his neck.

 “Good to know, because I’ve got no fucking clue what I’m doing.”

 Kaidan chuckled and allowed himself to be pushed back under the spray to wash away the soap. As he stood in the water he began to think again.

  _You got checked out less than five months ago—complete physical. There were no anomalies detected, and you know cancer doesn’t form in just a few months. It takes longer than that. Go and make an appointment with your doctor and just… calm down._

Shepard’s small surprised hum broke Kaidan from his run-around thoughts, and he stepped out of the spray to find Shepard standing awkwardly before him, hands at his sides and browed furrowed slightly.

 “What?” he asked, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

 “I uh… just realized I’ve never like… done this shit before,” he said.

 He looked a bit like he’d just realized flamingos can fly.

 “Done what? Showered?” he asked, not at all following his train of thought. Usually Shepard was pretty straightforward, and it was always weird when he got vague.

 “No,” he said quickly. Rolling his eyes, he pulled Kaidan back into his orbit by his hips. “I just… haven’t done something this intimate without expecting sex or whatever. Like, I’ve never just been with someone like this—not even you.”

 Kaidan could have called bullshit. Shepard had been this fiddly with Kaidan since the very start. He was a man starved for affection—desperate for affirmation beyond his skills in bed. He’d play with Kaidan’s hair or tangle their legs together, nuzzle his nose against his neck and rub his back just for the pure pleasure of feeling warm skin beneath his fingertips.

 But it seemed he wasn’t even aware of it. Eight months on and Shepard was just realizing that they’d moved beyond friends with benefits and rolled right into lovers with platonic benefits.

 It was oddly adorable.

 “You look a little freaked out,” Kaidan said, unable to hide his smile.

 Shepard blushed, the pink visible even in the humidity of the shower. “I’m not freaked out. I’ve just never thought about it.”

 “Despite what you think, you’re actually kind of a sweet guy,” Kaidan said, kissing the corner of his downturned mouth.

 “I am not.”

 “Would an asshole play chess with his boyfriend’s snoopy friend?”

 “There was nothing else to do,” Shepard said. He was standing ramrod straight, but after a few more kisses he began to relax.

 “Alright… then would an asshole wash his boyfriend’s hair and offer to wear a shirt so it smells like him?”

 Shepard made a noise in the back of his throat, and turned them around in the shower so he was under the spray. Kaidan grabbed the shampoo and dumped a load of it on his head, most of it falling off the short bristles quickly.

 “You tell anyone I did this for you and I’ll tell everyone you once said your favourite animal is steak.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is The Big One where everything changes. Hold on to your hats, ladies and gentlemen, because shit is about to get real messy. 
> 
> Big thanks to Annaraven, and a thank you to everyone reading and supporting this fic. And happy holidays!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Kaidan attend an important function for their relationship's future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Extreme violence
> 
> This chapter features artwork from shotce on tumblr! Thanks so much, peach!

 “Wow…”

 Shepard stood in the doorway while Kaidan gave him a very full once-over. Rocking back on his heels he felt the leather of his shoes creak under the weight, and he dropped forward again, fearing he’d cracked the shiny leather. He wasn’t really sure what to do with himself, and decided to avoid Kaidan’s wandering gaze by taking him in a little as well.

 Kaidan… wasn’t ready. Or, if he was, Shepard was severely overdressed. A pair of slacks and an untucked dress shirt was all he had on, his hair still wet from pomade that hadn’t had time to settle. He smelled strongly of his favourite shower gel and his skin was rosy pink, and Shepard watched as a bead of water slid down his collarbone into fuzzy dark chest hair.

 “You’re running late,” Shepard said. Kaidan was still admiring him—gaze straying to his wrists where borrowed cufflinks glittered in the light— and Shepard rubbed the back of his neck as if to brush away the pink tinge of embarrassment.

 “Y-yeah, just got out of the shower,” Kaidan said, voice a bit distant. He looked up at Shepard and seemed to come back to reality as soon as their eyes locked, parted lips easing into a grin. “Come in.”

 Shepard followed Kaidan into his apartment and felt a very hungry gaze on his backside. He hitched his jacket up a little, and heard Kaidan’s deep chuckle and felt him take a handful of his ass.

 “I got caught up at the lab,” Kaidan explained on their way to the bedroom. “We were prodding cultures for hours and lost track of time.”

 “Sounds… exciting,” Shepard said, slightly distracted by the way the crotch of his trousers tugged. He hadn’t worn this suit in well over a year, and forgot how form-fitting it was.

 Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Shepard kicked his feet out and watched the yellow light from the bedside lamp run across the shiny black leather. Everything tugged and chafed uncomfortably, but he resisted the urge to tug at his tie like a small child and instead focused on the evening ahead.

_Just stick with Kaidan and you’ll be fine. Smile when he smiles, laugh when he does, and shake everyone’s hand as hard as you fucking can like it’s a show of dominance. Anyone asks where you’re from **,** state the truth—don’t bend to the pressures of the rich to conform. Don’t make them comfortable._

 Except for Kaidan’s mum, that was.

 “I don’t mean to be rude, but uh… where did you get that suit?” Kaidan asked as he returned from the bathroom, shirt tucked and buttoned up and belt cinched tight.

 Shepard smirked and flopped back onto the bed, hands linked on his stomach. He watched Kaidan’s shadow as it flittered about on the ceiling.

 “Boss made me go to a tailor a couple of years back. Some of our clients are from your neck of the woods, and they’ll invite some ‘business partners’ to their events. My boss makes me come with her to act as security. Says I’m a pretty boy and look good on her arm…”

 “So you’re arm candy?”

 “Aren’t I yours tonight?”

 Kaidan chuckled and sat down next to him. Sitting up, Shepard watched as Kaidan put on his cufflinks like a man who’d been doing it all his life. He probably had. He seemed like the type who got trussed up even as a kid—made to wear tiny suits that cost far too much and lasted only a few months before he outgrew them.

 The unease crept back into Shepard’s gut.

 This wasn’t his world—wasn’t his lifestyle. He knew that anyone who looked at him tonight would know—know that he wasn’t one of _them_. He was a poor kid with no education, no real job, and no conversational skills beyond telling fucked up gang stories and how many times he’d broken his collarbone. Try as he might to convince himself he didn’t care if he was accepted or not, he couldn’t manage to keep the lie going for very long.

 He cared because Kaidan cared. He wanted to fit into Kaidan’s world if only to prove to himself that this wasn’t a mistake; that they weren’t throwing away their lives for something that could and would never work out.

 He was meeting Kaidan’s mother tonight, and Shepard wasn’t sure if there would still be a relationship to go home to when all was said and done. If his mother didn’t like him would Kaidan stick around? Or would he finally see reason and kick Shepard back out onto the streets to live a life far removed from his. Shepard had to impress— _wanted_ to impress—but didn’t know how.

He hated that he didn’t know how to fit in to Kaidan’s world; hated that he wanted to in the first place. He shouldn’t have cared and yet…

 Yet he did. So much so he was wearing an expensive Hugo Boss suit he’d been bought for drug dealing purposes, borrowed Joker’s wedding cufflinks, and was pretending that he was excited when all he wanted to do was roll in some mud and throw back a shot of cheap whiskey to remind himself of his place in the world.

 “You okay?”

 Shepard blinked back the light from the lamps and looked over to see Kaidan had finished dressing, tie neatly tied and hair perfectly coifed.

 “Yeah, I’m good,” he lied. Standing with a loud grunt, he tugged Kaidan over by the hem of his jacket and kissed him.

  _For courage and good luck._

 “Ready to crash a party?” Shepard teased once they’d parted.

 Kaidan smiled, although it seemed strained.

“How about _after_ you meet my mum?”

 Shepard nodded and returned the strained smile.

_Great—he’s just as nervous as you are. You’ll both be awkward fuck-ups only with different salaries._

XX

  Shepard stood outside the conservatory of the country club with his hands stuffed firmly in his pockets, afraid that if he so much as looked at one of the glass panels wrong the entire building would come crashing down. It was still light out and relatively warm, and people mingled outside on the well-manicured lawn, an air of refinement about them even as one woman got her heel caught in the soft ground. Piano music drifted lazily from the conservatory, and Shepard suddenly felt the urge to piss.

 Kaidan had left to park the car, abandoning Shepard on the curb and leaving him to his own devices.

 He decided to smoke, making sure he was next to the  ‘smoking’ sign as he did so and resisting the urge to drop his ash on the lawn. A few others were smoking a short distance away, and Shepard managed to make very brief eye-contact with one of the women before she looked away and asked her husband if they could go inside.

_And we’re off to a great start._

 Kaidan’s grinning face as he hurried up the walkway from the parking lot brightened Shepard’s mood marginally, and he dumped his smoke in the ashtray before meeting him halfway. He just needed to stick as close to Kaidan as possible and then maybe he’d feel a bit better. More like he belonged.

 “Thanks for waiting,” Kaidan said, voice a bit breathy.

 “Like I was going to go inside there alone,” he said.

 Kaidan rummaged around in his pocket before he pulled out a fancy looking slip of paper.

 “Shall we go?” he asked, pointing to the door with the paper.

 Shepard nodded and followed Kaidan up the walkway, hands still in his pockets as he hovered close. There were doormen at the entrance, and Shepard was a bit relieved to see he was dressed marginally better than they were. Kaidan passed one of them the paper and pointed to Shepard.

 “He’s my plus one.”

 The man nodded and passed the ticket back before throwing the doors open to them, a ‘have a wonderful evening’ drifting past them as they entered.

 The inside of the conservatory was damn fancy.

 Small tables were set up around the main floor, small candles flickering away inside glass holders resting on top alongside an assortment of drinks that were both being consumed and abandoned. Waiters strode through the gaggles of people with trays laden with small pastries and assortments of foods Shepard didn’t recognise, and off at the other end of the room Shepard could see a large dessert table right next to the very busy bar. The piano music was coming from an actual musician, her grand piano white and gold, her dress matching her instrument as she played slow, easy music for the crowd.

 Most of those attending were middle aged or older, and Shepard was fairly certain that he’d have been the youngest there were it not for the small baby in a frilly pink dress lying like a dead fish in her mother’s arms a short distance away.

 Kaidan touched the small of his back and guided him forward, Shepard blinking back the glittering dresses and the flickering candlelight as they stepped away from the door.

 As they made their way toward the bar Kaidan’s hand slowly wrapped around to Shepard’s side, loosely holding onto his waist in a small sign of affection. Shepard eased into his touch as best he could, hyper aware of where they were and who was watching. He wasn’t entirely sure how open Kaidan was about his sexuality, but the fact that Kaidan was leading him around like he was his ‘lady’ told him all he needed to know.

_If Kaidan wasn’t out about dating men before, he sure as shit is now._

“It’s an open bar so feel free to get whatever you want,” Kaidan said as they found a place in the line.

 It was more mannered than any of the bars Shepard had been to before, what with everyone waiting patiently in line and ordering fancy cocktails and fine wines. The bars at Afterlife were loud, sticky, and the bartenders had their tits hanging out—both the men and women.

 “Think they’ve got—“

 “If you say Cariboos I’m going to shove my fist in your mouth.”

 Shepard laughed and nudged Kaidan’s hip with his own. The line moved up a fraction and Shepard could see the assortment of liquor against the wall, most of it fancier versions of the stuff Garrus sold. He was unsure if he wanted a beer or a shot of something hard to burn away the taste of ‘You Don’t Belong Here’, and decided he’d have whatever Kaidan ordered.

 “Any reason we made a B-line to the bar?” he asked.

 Kaidan sighed and rubbed Shepard’s hip before dropping his hand.

 “I thought we could both use something to steel our nerves. Not every day I bring a person to meet my mum and… yeah. Kinda nervous.”

 “Yeah… good idea.”

 “I mean, I know it’s going to be fine—you’re going to amaze her because that’s just who you are—but leading up to the introduction it just… I’ve only introduced my mum to two other partners, and the last time I did it was about four years ago. So it’s been a while.”

 “And I’m not really the type of guy you bring home to Mum,” Shepard added.

 “John, that’s not—”

 “Don’t coddle me, K,” Shepard said, cutting off Kaidan’s well-meaning but ultimately futile pep-talk, “I know I don’t fit in here. You can shove me in the nicest fucking suit you can find, shine my shoes, and teach me how to fucking curtsy, but that’s not going to hide who I am.”

 “I don’t want to hide who you are,” Kaidan said, voice soft as he stepped in front of Shepard. The couple in front of them turned their heads slightly, and Shepard realized they’d been listening in. “I want to introduce my mum to you—not some weird version of you. She’ll probably like the real you more, anyways. She’s a… she might surprise you, is all I’m saying.”

 He reached up and fiddled with Shepard’s tie, straightening it slightly. Patting his lapel he looked at Shepard with his big brown puppy dog eyes. “Just try and relax, okay? You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine… just as soon as we get some whiskey in us.”

 Shepard nodded. “Yeah, okay. We’re both cool.”

 “Totally cool.”

 Kaidan went back to standing beside Shepard, phone in his hand as he texted someone—probably his mum. This left Shepard time to continue to panic as he stared at the wall of alcohol. Normally he’d have knocked back a considerable amount of alcohol and gotten into a few fights to work off the tension, but that wasn’t going to work here. He was Kaidan’s partner—his dude—and he had to act like he was deserving of Kaidan’s affection.

 He had to prove that Kaidan’s trust wasn’t unwarranted.

 They got their drinks and wandered off to stand in a corner, Kaidan still scanning his phone and the crowd. Shepard sipped his whiskey carefully, noting it the kind Kaidan always got. No one paid them any mind and so Shepard relaxed a fraction, content to spend the entire evening lurking in the shadows.

 “So, this event… how does it work? Do people pay to come and the money goes to research?” he asked, watching as an elderly couple took a considerable amount of pastries from a passing tray.

 “Uh… yeah, kinda,” Kaidan mumbled as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Finishing off his drink, he placed it down on the table next to them and leaned against it. “Some people pay, others get invited to it. There’s a silent auction later on that collects donations, and a raffle. Some people just straight up donate money, which is what I always do.”

 Shepard fiddled with the edge of his glass, thumb pressing hard into the edge.

 “I uh… don’t really have—”

 “It’s fine, John,” Kaidan said as he straightened up. “I didn’t invite you so you could donate to the cause. I invited you because I needed someone to make this evening more bearable.”

 “And to meet your mum.”

 “Yeah, that too. Although she’s apparently running around getting some auction stuff set up, so we’ve gotta wait a while longer to rip the Band-Aid off.”

_Great. Just fucking great._

 He finished the last of the whiskey and placed his glass down beside Kaidan’s. Standing in front of him, he noted the slightly pinched expression on Kaidan’s face and knew exactly what that meant.

 “Migraine?”

 “It’s trying to make an appearance, yeah. But it’s fine—I just need some food. Been trying to get the attention of that one waitress with the crab cakes for a while now.”

 Shepard looked over his shoulder to see the woman Kaidan was pointing at. She was heading toward the elderly couple that had poached many of the pastries before, and he was certain they’d be all gone by the time she got to them.

 “Wait here,” he told Kaidan.

 He shot off into the crowd before Kaidan had time to ask what he was doing. Scooting through the patchwork of people, he kept his eyes locked on the server, noting that there were fewer cakes than when he left the table.

 Grabbing a napkin from a nearby table, he tapped the waitress on the shoulder and shot her what he thought was a friendly smile. Her surprised expression told him otherwise.

 “Crab cakes, right?” he asked, pointing to her tray.

 “Yes, of course. Would you like one?” she asked.

 Shepard nodded and began piling a few on the napkin, ignoring her look of slight horror as he took eight of the remaining fifteen.

 “Thanks,” he said, and then hurried back to Kaidan with his bounty.

 Kaidan was laughing by the time he returned.

 “You just broke all social protocol,” Kaidan said. He was still laughing.

 “Hey man, when there are small pies on the line I will gladly act like a dick,” Shepard said, resting the napkin on the table. “That old couple over there? They were going to do the same. I just did what I had to.”

 Kaidan snorted and grabbed one of the cakes, stuffing the whole thing in his mouth and getting a bit of pastry on his lips. Shepard kissed it off.

 “Sexy,” Kaidan said through a mouthful of pie.

 “I’ve got a food kink.”

 Kaidan swallowed and began to laugh again, cheeks going bright pink.

 Shepard still felt out of sorts and like he was on display, but making Kaidan laugh was proving to be a worthy distraction.  

 “So do you know anyone here?” he asked, eying one of the cakes with slight disdain. Only the well-off would find delight in such small, delicately made appetizers. Why not just make an entire fucking pie when all was said and done?

 He felt a bit bad thinking that, however, when he saw how much Kaidan was enjoying them.

_Keep forgetting he’s one of them, eh?_

 “I know about half,” Kaidan said after he’d eaten a third pastry. “Some of them are friends of the family, and others are old co-workers of my mum. There are a couple cops, too, so…”

 “Don’t go bragging about my cocaine empire—got it.”

 Kaidan tensed and brushed his hands over the corner of the napkin. “Don’t go making jokes about it, either.”

 “Did you wanna like… talk to them?” he asked, hoping Kaidan said no.

 “Nah, not yet… perfectly happy preparing for my mum’s imminent arrival without having to tell a bunch of busybodies about how school’s going, and if I’ve decided what career I want to pursue once I’m done.”

“When they ask about your romantic life, did you want to like… pretend we’re just friends, or…?” Shepard asked, unsure of how Kaidan wanted to play it.

 Kaidan looked a bit shocked, his brows rising marginally and a fifth pastry ignored. “I wasn’t planning on hiding our relationship, if that’s what you’re asking. I mean… would that make _you_ more comfortable?”

 Shepard wasn’t really sure. He figured he’d be uncomfortable in any role right now.

 “Don’t care, really. If it’s going to bring you trouble and get the gossip mill going…” he trailed off. He knew he stuck out like a sore thumb and that his being with Kaidan would only raise eyebrows. The rich liked to gossip, and he knew Kaidan would be the talk of the town if he were openly affectionate with the guy from the Eastside. He didn’t want to be an inconvenience for Kaidan—didn’t want to add complications to his already stressful little bubble.

 He didn’t want to be a bother.

 Kaidan didn’t seem to have the same hang-ups, however. He grabbed Shepard’s hand and tugged him closer, fingers sliding up the palm of his hand and resting on his pulse point.

 “I invited you as my partner tonight,” he said. “So… let’s be partners? Let ‘em talk. I only care about you.”

 The way Kaidan was looking at him made Shepard feel more confident than any shot of whiskey could, and he nodded while a smile spread across his lips.

 “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

 Kaidan returned the smile and kissed the corner of Shepard’s mouth quickly.

 “Shepard?”

 There were three things Shepard was worried about going into the event: disappointing Kaidan, fucking up his meeting with Kaidan’s mother, and getting his dick caught in the fly of his slacks.

 Running into the Chief of Police? That was a fucking nightmare.

 Shepard turned around to see Anderson standing a short distance away in full dress uniform, a tiny quiche in one hand and a blonde woman holding on to the other. He looked about as surprised as Shepard felt.

 “Anderson?”

 “Wait—you two know each other?” Kaidan said, appearing at Shepard’s side. He tried to catch Shepard’s gaze but Shepard couldn’t tear his eyes away from the _cop_ in front of him.

 He’d been joking about getting tackled by a platoon of cops going into the evening, but it seemed he hadn’t knocked on enough wood to get away with it.

 “I’ve spoken to Shepard a few times—we run in similar circles,” Anderson explained.

 It would have been easy for Anderson to break apart Shepard’s false sense of security—to snuff out the little flame inside him that had convinced him maybe he belonged. Anderson could have turned to the woman next to him and told him he was a low-life street kid who caused too much trouble and too much damage. Instead he covered for Shepard—skirted the edges of truth and lie and came up with something conveniently vague.

_But fucking why?_

 To save face in front of everyone so he didn’t have to admit he regularly conversed with a known gang member? Or was it to protect Shepard—to keep his secret a little longer?

 Shepard wanted to believe the latter, but it snagged on his jagged, bitter sense of reality.

 Anderson gathered himself before either he or Kaidan managed to close their mouths, and stepped forward to shake both their hands. The woman next to him also shook their hands, her grip firm, belying the sparkly dress she wore.  She had a funny little smirk on her lips that Shepard wasn’t quite sure he liked—like she already knew what was going on. Like Anderson had _talked_ about him.

“This is my companion for the evening, Kaylee Sanders.”

 “Nice to meet you two,” she said, that smirk still there. “I’ve been told a lot about you, Kaidan.”

 Shepard tried not to visibly sag with relief. She recognized Kaidan—not him.

“You used to work at the morgue, right? My dad talked about visiting you a few times,” Kaidan said, easily slipping into the role of the perfect conversationalist.

 Shepard watched on with a bit of envy as he smiled and chatted with Kaylee as if they were old friends, making her and Anderson laugh while Shepard stared at the exchange, completely and utterly out of place. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know when to laugh—just stood and fiddled with the rim of his empty whiskey glass, desperately wishing for the floor to eat him up whole.

 “So are you still with the force?”

 “I retired recently,” Kaylee replied. “Looking at dead bodies day in and day out just didn’t have the same appeal anymore, so I’m working as a high school teacher.”

 “That’s great,” Kaidan said, grinning. “And it’s good to see you, Constable Anderson. With the way my father’s been talking, it seems like you barely see the sun outside your office.”

 Anderson smiled ruefully. “You don’t know the half of it, Kaidan.”

 Shepard just rocked back on his heels. He knew he could probably add something but he was becoming more and more comfortable with the two police officers ignoring him.

 But then Kaylee turned her eyes on him, bright blue locking with dark.

 “And how do you and Kaidan know each other, Shepard?”

 “We uh, we met at a party. Back in September,” he said, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to work out the steel rod that had been shoved up his ass since he entered the place. “We met up after that, hit it off, and have kept close since.”

 “He’s my boyfriend,” Kaidan said, oblivious to the way Anderson’s mouth twitched at the corner.

 Shepard caught it, though, and knew what it meant. Anderson was concerned in his busybody way. A known drug dealer dating a cop’s son—how was he supposed to just be okay with that? How was he to keep that information locked up? Anderson had just become complicit in a very bad, very dangerous scheme of ‘No One Tell Daddy His Son is Fucking a Criminal’, and Shepard wasn’t sure how long he’d feign ignorance for. Or if he even would at all.

_Cops are fucking wastes of skin. Duty is all they know; nothing like shades of grey or motherfucking nuance._

 He eyed the bar, wishing desperately he had six shots of vodka lined up in front of him.

 Clearing his throat, Shepard came back into the conversation just as Kaylee was finishing up congratulating them on their eight month anniversary. Anderson was smiling tightly but Shepard couldn’t shake his stare no matter how hard he tried to be interested in the piano player behind him.

 Kaidan’s hand on the small of his back was of slight comfort, and the touch reminded Shepard of why he was here. Kaidan was what mattered, not all the politics that came along with him. Anderson could throw him in jail—tell him to keep away and threaten him with a lengthy prison stint— but he’d undergo it all and then-some and still love Kaidan. Still do everything and anything for him.

 He was his dude.

 Gripping his glass harder, he clenched his jaw and returned Anderson’s stare head-on.

 “We’re happy together,” he said, speaking to the group but keeping his attention on Anderson. “He’s been a good turn-around in my life—gave me a safe place to just catch my breath. I’ve always been seen as some jackass from the Eastside, and maybe I am just that, but at least Kaidan’s good at lying. Without him I’d probably be one of the bodies you used to find lying in the streets, Ms. Sanders.”

 There was silence, just the hum of conversation and the twinkle of the piano in the distance, before Kaidan broke it with a nervous laugh.

 “That’s uh… that’s sweet, Shepard. But uh—are you feeling alright?”

 Shepard nodded. Anderson did too—just a short nod. Shepard wasn’t sure if that was approval or what, but he was willing to let it go like water under the bridge. If Anderson showed him some mercy and didn’t gossip to Kaidan’s dad…

 Maybe they stood a chance.

 “We wish you and your mother luck with the fundraiser this evening,” Anderson said, not a hint of unsettledness in his voice. “I know I’ve got my eye on that golf trip you’ve got in the auction.”

 Kaylee rolled her eyes and gently swatted him with her purse. “Good luck with that, hot shot.”

 “It’s been a pleasure,” Anderson said, Kaylee echoing the sentiments. As they left, however, Anderson’s voice trailed over his shoulder. “Keep out of trouble, Shepard.”

 “So… you know Anderson through… work?” Kaidan asked as soon as Anderson and Kaylee were a safe distance away. He had the look of a man who wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer to the question he asked.

 Shepard clenched his jaw and worked it back and forth, resisting the urge to slam his glass down on the table like a low-class fuck like him would have done. Instead he put it down carefully and leaned against the table.

 “Yeah… we’ve had our run-ins. He’s an alright guy for a cop, but…” he clenched his jaw and worked it back and forth. Kaidan hovered next to him, hands stuffed in his pockets, the jingle of his keys as he bounced them in his hand piercing through the hum of the room.

 “But he knows my dad,” Kaidan finished for him.

 By his tone Shepard guessed he was coming to the same conclusion he was.

 They didn’t have the luxury of time anymore. Kaidan had to tell his dad about Shepard sooner rather than later.

 “Think Anderson will tell your dad about how he and I know each other?” he asked, looking over at Kaidan.

 Kaidan’s bottom lip was sucked between his teeth, attention fixed on someone off in the distance. He just kept fiddling with his keys.

 “I… I don’t think so. Not if it doesn’t come up,” Kaidan finally said, although he sounded less than convinced.

 Shepard nodded and straightened up. Clearing his throat, he brushed a hand over his face, desperate to wash himself of the conversation beforehand. There was nothing they could do now. They just had to come out to Kaidan’s dad as soon as possible.

 The jingling stopped and Shepard noted Kaidan had pulled out his phone, his big black brows pinched close together as he read the text.

 “What?” Shepard asked.

 “Mum wants to meet us next to the ice sculpture in half an hour.”

 Shepard swallowed back the brick in his throat. “I need another drink.”

 “Same.”

XX

 The ice sculpture was in the shape of a cancer ribbon, a yellow light shining from behind to give it the proper tone. The bucket underneath it was artfully covered with a variety of flowers, but they’d long since begun to wilt under the steady drip of the water up above, each drop weighing down on the delicate petals.

 People passed it by on their way to the silent auction but no one seemed to pay it any mind—a reminder to Shepard of how such luxuries were seen as common by the majority of the party-goers. Shepard had only seen one ice sculpture in his life during the Olympics, and even then it was already more than half melted, the warm winter causing the rings to cave in quickly and steadily.

 “Have you ever seen one of these before?” Kaidan asked, his hand resting on Shepard’s shoulder as they looked at the piece.

 Shepard shook his head. Truth told he didn’t give a shit about it in the slightest, but it was better than staring into the crowd waiting for Kaidan’s mum to arrive. He’d had another drink and a few more appetizers in the interim between Anderson and further mingling, and they’d helped to calm his nerves, the small talk they had to undergo anytime some elderly person spotted Kaidan a little easier to manage. But as they made their way to the sculpture Shepard felt all the alcohol and food making its way back up, and he focused on the sculpture in front of him so he didn’t just book it out of there—make a break for it before he could ruin the evening by being himself.

_Do it for Kaidan…_

 “Kind of a waste of money,” he said, touching the petal of the yellow lily gently.

 Kaidan hummed and squeezed his shoulder. “I agree.”

 “Like… why make a sculpture that’s just going to melt?”

 “I dunno… maybe it’s a way of saying beauty never lasts, so we should enjoy it while it’s here?”

 Shepard snorted and shoved his hand into his pocket, bits of pollen stuck on his fingertips. “You saying I’m getting old, Alenko?”

 He smirked and waggled his brows, Kaidan shoving him gently to the side with a chuckle.

 There was a sharp, purposeful click of heels behind them that cut through the chatter of the now crowded observatory, and Shepard knew before he even saw who it was.

 “Say cheese!”

 They turned around at the same time and were greeted with a large white flash. Blinking back the spots, Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose and peered out across the way to see a small woman holding a very large camera, a grin on her face that reached all the way up to her big brown eyes. Black, curly hair cascaded down brown shoulders, and delicate hands covered in silver jewelry hefted up the camera again in preparation for another photo.

 “Mum—stop it!” Kaidan cried, and reached out to block another flash from the bulb.

 She dropped the camera, a wry smile on her lips as she fiddled with the lens.

 “I want a proper photo of you two before we leave this conversation,” she said.

 Shepard kept off to Kaidan’s side, taking in the woman before him. She was smaller than he thought she would be—perhaps because Kaidan was so tall himself. But he could definitely see the family resemblance, her hair and his almost identical, and their eyes the same—big and brown and full of warmth. Her skin was a tone darker than Kaidan’s, but Shepard now knew how he got so tan just standing out in the sun for even a half-hour.

 She pressed her heels together and linked her hands under the camera. She looked between the two a moment before her eyes stayed focused on him.

 “So… are you going to introduce us, Kaidan?” she asked expectantly.

 “Oh yeah, of course—Mum, this is Shepard and Shepard, this is my mum,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

 She stuck her hand out and Shepard took it, the two embracing in a firm shake. All Shepard could think about was how sweaty his hand felt and how she was sure to notice.

 “Please, call me Elisa.”

 “Nice to meet you,” he said, then tacked on a hasty ‘Elisa’ at the end. Shoving his hand back in his pocket he rocked back on his heels.

 Once again Shepard was under the scrutiny of an Alenko. She was giving him a full once-over—taking in every bit and piece of him, her expression still the same. Shepard had half-expected her face to drop as soon as she’d seen him, thinking the man before her to be a complete and utter disappointment, but she was still smiling warmly.

 “I can see the resemblance,” he said, nodding his head toward Kaidan. “He uh… he’s got your smile.”

  “Really?” she asked, head tilting to the side. She smiled at Kaidan—a little upturn of her lips—and nodded when Kaidan returned it. “I suppose we do.”

 “What’s with the camera, Mum?” Kaidan asked. Shepard could feel the nervous energy coming off of him as well. He usually followed Kaidan’s lead in these situations, but Kaidan was acting just as weird as he was.

  She sighed and cocked her hip to the side. “Peter had a bad night last night,” she mimicked drinking, “and has spent the greater part of the evening in the washroom purging after he thought maybe another shot of vodka would help.”

 “So you’ve taken over?”

 “And so I’ve taken over.” She nodded in affirmation before returning her attention to Shepard. “So, Shepard, are you enjoying the party?”

_No._

 “Y-yeah, it’s uh… nice. I’ve been to a few events like this, but usually on the job.”

 She quirked a brow and Kaidan made a small noise in the back of his throat.

 “My boss is a club owner,” he hastily explained, “and sometimes we get invited to the competition’s parties and shit—I mean stuff.”

 Her smile was still there although a bit strained. She wasn’t buying his bullshit for one second, and Kaidan’s beet-red face wasn’t helping matters either.

 “Kaidan told me you were a bouncer and a handy-man,” Elisa said.

 “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

 Shepard was glad that Kaidan had the courtesy to inform him of the lie he’d fabricated before introducing him to his mother. Shepard knew jack shit about plumbing and sawing, carpentry and soldering, but he could fake it if he had to. Unlike Kaidan, Shepard had a wicked poker face.

 “That’s very interesting,” she replied, and sent Kaidan a funny little smile.

_She’s definitely not buying this._

 Shepard wished he could just leave—bugger off and never come back. Maybe run so far across the golf course he’d reach a lake he could drown himself in. Never had he felt so fucking out of place, and never had he felt so desperate to just run. But Kaidan’s shoulder pressed against him own kept him grounded and present, and instead of saying ‘fuck this’ he answered Elisa’s question about where they met.

 “We met at a party back in September. He caught my eye from across the room; I went up to talk to him and we uh… well, we hit it off, I guess.”

 “I told you this story, Mum,” Kaidan said.

 She shrugged. “I wanted to hear it from Shepard.” 

 “He’s really great—Kaidan, I mean,” Shepard said quickly.

 He needed to play up the importance of their relationship to his mum; how this wasn’t just some fling. He knew he didn’t look like Kaidan’s type; like a kid who belonged next to him at a fancy fundraiser, where people’s shoes were more expensive than his entire life’s belongings combined. But he wanted—no, he _needed_ —to let Elisa know just how important Kaidan was to him. How happy they made each other.

 Never in his life had he wanted to impress anyone more than in that moment.

 It was frightening but he barreled through it, not even sure if grand speeches were what people did when meeting the parents for the first time.

 “Before I met him I was kind of… I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. But Kaidan is—he’s really focused, you know? Focused on what he wants and what it takes to get there, and I figure, you know, maybe he’s rubbing off on me a little. I can feel myself becoming a little more, like… respectable. Or something. Like maybe if Kaidan sees something in me, I can be more than some street kid working at clubs and… yeah. I admire him and… and he’s great. You’ve raised a great son.”

_So please don’t take him from me._

 “Thanks, John,” Kaidan said. He gently nudged their shoulders together.

 “Thank you, Shepard, that’s very kind of you to say,” Elisa said, and Shepard could tell he impressed her by the way her smile threatened to split her face in half, “although you haven’t seen him on his bad days, clearly. The temper tantrums he could throw when he was a child—“

 “Let’s save the little kid stories for another time, eh, Mum?” Kaidan interjected.

“How about next week then?” she asked. “Why don’t you come to our house for Sunday brunch, Shepard? Kaidan’s father makes the best brunch and it would be wonderful if you came.”

Shepard chanced a glance at Kaidan, unsure whether he should accept. With Anderson in on the relationship it was only a matter of time before his dad found out…

 Kaidan just shrugged when Shepard raised his brows at him.

_Traitor._

 “I uh… would love to. I’ve never had brunch before,” he said.

 He swallowed down the nerves that had built up in his throat. Meeting Kaidan’s mother? Terrifying. Meeting his father? Shepard might as well have started writing out his death warrant. If he didn’t kill him Aria certainly would if she found out he’d sat down and had a meal with a cop.

 “Wonderful! Kaidan, be a dear and come over around ten-thirty? And bring Shepard with you—I loathe the thought of him trying to navigate our neighborhood alone.”

 “Yeah, for sure. He spends the night most of the time at my place anyways,” Kaidan said. Shepard wasn’t sure if he meant to divulge such personal information, but his mother didn’t seem fazed in the slightest.

 “Well, as much as I am sure you’d love to stand and chat with me for the next few hours, I really need to get the silent auction going—not to mention I’m now the designated photographer,” she said, sighing dramatically. Hefting the camera back up, she waved her hand at them. “Get in close and smile _properly_ for the camera now.”

 Kaidan immediately wrapped his arm around Shepard’s waist and Shepard returned the pose. Gripping Kaidan’s hip he tried to relax his face enough into an actual smile, holding it until the flash went off. He couldn’t help but grimace as stars danced in his vision, momentarily blinding him.

 “Perfect,” Elisa cheered. “You two do make quite the pair.”

 “Thanks, Mum.”

 “Yeah, thank you… Elisa.”

 She shook Shepard’s hand one last time, repeating how lovely it was to meet him and how she was excited for their brunch together. She hurried off soon after, long, curly hair streaming after her as she chased down a man she obviously recognized. Shepard watched her go, unsure of how he was feeling at the moment.

 Relief that he hadn’t fucked up too bad? Confused because she genuinely seemed to maybe, sort of, kind of like him? Hungry because the appetizers were small as fuck and tiny quiches just didn’t cut it?

 “I think she likes you,” Kaidan said, breaking the silence between them.

 Shepard turned and took in Kaidan’s relief. He finally looked relaxed; relaxed enough that Shepard didn’t feel quite as anxious.

 “How could you tell?” he asked.

 “She invited you over to her house for a start. She also wouldn’t stop smiling.”

 “She could just be excessively polite like you are.”

 Kaidan rolled his eyes and took Shepard’s hand in his own. “Trust me—I know my mum. She likes you. You impressed her, despite being a bit… awkward.”

 Shepard felt a flush of embarrassment and turned from Kaidan, instead focusing on the pianist who was leaving her instrument just as a small band set up in the corner next to her.

 Looked like they were in for a night of slow jazz.

 “The speech was a bit much, huh?”

 “Only a little.”

 Kaidan was grinning.

 “I suppose we should keep making the rounds?” he asked.

 He felt Kaidan move and turned his head just in time to catch a quick kiss. It was short and brief—a momentary brush of their lips and easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. Shepard quirked a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

 “What was that for?” he asked, squeezing Kaidan’s hand.

 “Just a thank you for coming with me. I know this isn’t really your style but… it means a lot, you know, that you’re here with me and making the effort.”

 “No problem,” Shepard mumbled, and pulled Kaidan in for another kiss—this one longer but still sweet. He knew Kaidan had an image to maintain.

 Once they’d pulled apart Shepard rolled his shoulders back, listening with great pleasure to the crack of his back as it worked its way across every disc.

 “How about we get a couple more drinks in us and join the dancefloor?” he asked, nodding his head toward the small dancefloor where a bunch of elderly couples were shimmying along to a song from their youth.

 “I’m a terrible dancer, John. You’re even worse,” Kaidan said with a chuckle.

 “Yeah? That’ll just make it more entertaining,” Shepard said, waggling his brows.

 Kaidan rolled his eyes but continued to smile all the same. “Couldn’t embarrass me in front of my mum, so you’re aiming to do it in front of everyone else?”

 Shepard tugged Kaidan’s hand and led him to the bar, desperate for a celebratory drink. He hadn’t fucked up, Kaidan’s mum liked him, and he was about to embarrass the shit out of him on the dancefloor.

 The night was looking up.

XX

 Shepard leaned on the hood of Kaidan’s car, a smoke dangling from his lips as he breathed in the sickening yet addictive tobacco. Kaidan was leaning next to him, feet kicked out and his tie loose around his neck, jacket abandoned in the backseat of his car. It was late and the streets had been long since abandoned, bar hoppers and university kids alike passed out in their beds.

 Shepard loved this time of night—where everything seemed so still and quiet, and when he could pretend he was the only one who existed. Save for the occasional honk of a horn far off in the distance, the illusion was a solid one.

 “I think this year’s fundraiser will top last year’s,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard nodded and pulled the smoke from his mouth. Blowing out a thick plume, he batted it away from Kaidan.

 “How much did you raise last year?”

 “Close to five-hundred.”

 “Five-hundred dollars?”

 “Five-hundred thousand.”

 Shepard whistled low and shoved the smoke back in his mouth. Kaidan wouldn’t let him smoke in his car, and he’d been without for hours.

 “We’re partnered up with a few companies that try and match the donations we collect—or as close as they can. We can probably pull in about two-million this year all told.”

 Shepard scratched the corner of his jaw, feeling the stubble under his fingertips. “That’s a lot of cash. All for cancer research, right?”

 “Mm-hm, all for cancer research. We might even get some of the funds at the university,” Kaidan said, pride and excitement in his voice.

 “I expect you’re gonna be the guy to find a cure for brain cancer at this point,” Shepard teased.

 Kaidan chuckled, but there was a hint of wistfulness in it.

 “I hope one day… yeah, maybe.”

 Dropping the last of his smoke on the ground he shoved the heel of his shiny shoe on top, snuffing it out and dirtying the shoe in the process. He’d been on his best behaviour all day, resisting the urge to tug at his tie or loosen his belt, and had even swallowed a burp before he let it rip in front of one of Kaidan’s old babysitters. He was allowed to mess up his outfit now.

 “I should probably get home,” Shepard said, pushing himself off the hood.

 “You don’t want to spend the night?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard took Kaidan in—from the disheveled suit to the wave in his hair, how his voice was scratchier than usual from all the talking. He looked tired, and Shepard didn’t want to fuck up his sleep. He was used to staying up late and hitting his peak at three or four in the morning, years of working the club keeping him a night owl. But Kaidan was ready for bed, and Shepard knew he’d get passive-aggressive in the morning if Shepard rolled around all night.

 “Nah… Jack’s been bugging me about hanging out and I owe her some Shepard Time.”

 Kaidan nodded and straightened, tugging at the pleats in his trousers. Reaching out he pulled Shepard in for a slow, lazy kiss, one Shepard returned with equal enthusiasm. Running his hand through Kaidan’s hair, Shepard cupped the back of his head and deepened the kiss, desperate to take him all in after hours of being denied the option to.

 When they broke Kaidan’s hands were planted firmly on Shepard’s ass, kneading the muscles. Shepard would have figured Kaidan was hinting at something, but the way he was leaning on Shepard more as a support than anything else told him just how exhausted he really was.

 “You get any sleep leading up to this night?” he asked, nuzzling their noses together.

 Kaidan hummed and just closed his eyes. “Not really…”

 “Worried about your mum and I meeting?”

 “Yeah… a little.” He sighed and pulled away, rubbing his eyes. “But now that I know she likes you, and that neither of us fucked up too bad in front of my family’s entire social circle, I feel like I can actually get some sleep.”

 “Glad it didn’t end in disaster,” Shepard said.  

 He’d impressed Kaidan’s mum—managed to convince her he wasn’t actually a piece of shit. He hadn’t even been able to convince _himself_ of that, let alone someone as important as Mrs. Alenko. He knew he had a tougher challenge at the end of the week, but for now he’d take the relief he was feeling. Tonight had been, against all odds, a good night.

 Shepard didn’t get those regular, wholesome evenings often. Sometimes it felt good to be out of his element.

 “Hey man—night is still young. We could go and cause some mayhem yet. We could tip over trash-cans and jaywalk across the street,” Kaidan joked.

 Shepard laughed and shoved Kaidan’s shoulder. “Slow down, rebel. There’s only one punk allowed in this relationship, and judging by tonight I’m in no position to give that title up just yet.”

 Kaidan’s expression grew serious then—a slight furrow of his brows that told Shepard he’d stepped in something.

 “You know you’re not as much of an outcast as you think you are, right?” he began. “I know you think you don’t fit into my life or my world or whatever, but you do… you’re charming and intelligent, and you’ve got a lot of interesting things to say. You held your own tonight against a bunch of elitist people.”

 Shepard shrugged. He didn’t really need their approval and hadn’t gone into the evening looking for it.

 “You’re scaring me, K. What if I don’t want to fit in, hm?” he teased, although there was a hint of truth in it.

 “I’m just saying, you look good in a suit, and I didn’t once see you drop food on your tie. You’ve got more class than most of the guys there.”

 “Most were old as fuck and couldn’t see a foot in front of them.”

 Kaidan rolled his eyes, a small smile on his lips. “Just take the compliment, alright?”

 “Aye aye.”

 He moved in for a goodnight kiss, Kaidan humming into it. Pulling away he squeezed his shoulder before turning and leaving, a bit of a skip in his step.

 “You coming over for lunch tomorrow?” Kaidan called.

 Shepard swirled around and started walking backwards. “What’s for lunch?”

 “Sandwiches, beer, and chips.”

 “And dick?”

 Kaidan laughed and waved Shepard off.

 “I’m taking that as a yes,” Shepard yelled before turning back around and continuing on his way.

 The streets grew more crowded the further he walked home, the small groups of homeless people curled up under the awnings and in alleyways offering Shepard silent company. The sidewalks became cracked and covered in stains, and Shepard knew he was back in his world when the blast of a siren could be heard just down the street.

 Hands shoved in his pockets he rolled his shoulders back and walked tall, knowing all too well if he didn’t keep his guard up—

 “Hey! Faggot!”

 Someone jumped out of the alleyway, and before Shepard could react hands grabbed at him and dragged him into the darkness. His heart leapt up into his throat and he immediately tried to swing free, but two of the three who had grabbed him held on to his arms and kept them pinned to his sides, restraining him as they shoved him against the wall.

 He felt the air get kicked out of him and wheezed as he was held upward, head rubbing against the brick wall uncomfortably.

 “If you fuck up my suit—” he began, only to get a fist to the gut.

 He curled in a bit, the alcohol and crab cakes making a valiant attempt at escaping. Holding it in, he breathed hard through his nose before straightening back up to come face to face with his attackers.

 There were four of them—two one either side, one in front, and the fourth standing near the entrance of the alley. It was hard to make out their faces, but Shepard caught sight of a series of red bandanas on all of them.

_Blood Pack. Shit. Can’t have one good fucking day, can I?_

 The one in front grabbed Shepard’s chin, twisting his head upward. Shepard resisted the urge to spit in his face and instead held the man’s gaze.

 “Looks like we got Aria’s pet faggot,” the guy said, and the ones holding his arms snickered. “You know it’s not wise to walk around alone at night, right?”

 “Not wise to fuck around with Omega, and yet here we are.”

 The man’s face darkened, and Shepard prepared for a second hit. It didn’t come. Instead he was pushed harder against the wall while the man in front pulled something out of his pocket.

 It was a gun.

_Double shit._

 He clenched his jaw and tried very hard not to move. He could have lied and said that a gun in his face didn’t freak him out, but everyone knew that was bullshit. The metal looked more menacing under the gloom of the streetlights—sleek and black and promising a very painful evening if he didn’t play his cards right.

 “Omega isn’t shit,” the guy said, voice cracking slightly. “Y’all are just a bunch of pussy ass faggots who don’t know their place. You’re washed up.”

 He pushed the barrel of the gun against Shepard’s breast right over his heart, and Shepard swore the guy could feel the frantic beat of his heart as it thudded against his chest. He breathed hard through his nose, trying to keep his senses in check.

_They won’t actually shoot you—they’re smart enough to know that they’ll get caught. Cops are crawling all over the place and…_

 “Got nothing to say, faggot?”

 Shepard knew he should have just kept his mouth fucking shut, and yet—

 “You keep saying faggot like it’s a bad thing. You jealous I suck dick better than your girlfriend?”

 The guy hit him hard in the stomach again—right over where the previous hit landed. The two beside him kept him upright, and Shepard bit back the pain as it shuddered through his body, stomach muscles spasming and lungs heaving desperately for breath.

 Rolling his head back, he grinned at the guy, earning himself a backhand across the face.

 “You’re a piece of _shit_ , Shepard. You and your entire fucking gang—just fucked up pieces of shit. You all deserve to learn a lesson for what you did to Karl!”

 Shepard broke through the fog of pain and blinked a few times.

 “Who the fuck is Karl?”

 He didn’t feel anything for a few brilliant, blessed moments, but then the pain hit. It took him a second to understand what had happened, but as an intense throbbing sensation blossomed across his face and blood pooled in his mouth, he realized he’d just been hit with the butt of the pistol straight across the face.

The men holding him up let go and he fell heavily to the ground, searing pain blinding him as the skin around his eye puffed up immediately. He didn’t even have time to get his bearings before he was surrounded, the Blood Pack members kicking him as hard as they could—on his side, his head, his arms and all around. Hit after hit connected, and Shepard took each strike wondering if it would be the last. The sour taste of bile flooded his mouth mixing with the blood from before, and his body curled in on itself as it tried to shield itself from the hits.

 He began to lose consciousness, his body shutting everything down, and a terrifying realization broke through the fog of pain.

 _I’m going to die_.

 A sound broke through the sickening sound of strikes against meat—loud and sharp—and a burst of bright light followed. The kicking stopped immediately, and Shepard rolled on to his back as frantic footsteps took off down the alleyway and away from the lights.

 He heard slower footsteps approaching and there was a distant chatter emanating from the car that he couldn’t quite understand. He hurt so much that the pain was starting to take over all other senses, his brain struggling to keep him conscious let alone responsive. He just lay on the pavement listening to the rush of blood through his head, vaguely aware that someone was looking down at him and talking.

 “—and we’re going to need an ambulance right away,” said a male voice that was vaguely familiar.

 “Is he responsive?” a second voice asked—female.

 “I’m fine,” Shepard gurgled out. He tried to sit up but the man pressed his hand against his shoulder, holding him down.

 He fought him off, ignoring the screaming in his stomach area as he sat up. His head felt like it was going to fall off, and he turned to the side and threw up again—narrowly missing the man’s shoes. Leaning heavily to the side, he looked down at the puke with his good eye, noting that there was a lot of blood mixed in with the crab cakes.

 “What happened, sir?” the woman asked, and Shepard looked up to see that she wasn’t just any woman.

 They were cops.

 There were more sirens that broke out a distance away, and Shepard figured they went after the guys who had done this for him. Usually he preferred it if the cops stayed out of their fucking business, but usually he hadn’t just been beaten half to death.

 “Got jumped,” he said, and then coughed out a few specks of blood for good measure.

 “Possible robbery?” the woman asked her partner.

 Shepard realized that they didn’t know who he was and what he did. They thought he was an innocent bystander who’d just been mugged.

 Must have been the suit.

 “Don’t worry about it,” he said as he stumbled upright. He still couldn’t see properly, and his sides screamed out with each laboured breath, but he’d be damned if he’d go to the hospital.

 “Sir, you really need to wait for the ambulance,” the male cop said, and once again his voice was oddly familiar.

 He didn’t look like anyone he knew, however, but it was hard to tell. His one eye was swollen shut and the other was leaking something fierce, tears making it hard to identify a person from a potato in the gloom of the alley.

 “Can you legally force me to go to the hospital?” he asked, holding onto his side. He felt something in his jacket pocket, and realized it was the broken pieces of his phone.

_Fucking fuck fuckers._

 “No, but it’s best if you see someone—”

 “I’m fine,” Shepard repeated. “I don’t want to press charges and I don’t want to go to the hospital, so just let me go.”

 He knew it was stupid and stubborn. He could feel a rib was broken and knew his cheekbone might be shattered too. He definitely had a concussion, and he felt like he was going to vomit again. But he refused to go to the hospital. They’d ask questions, the cops would know where he was and who he was, and Aria would skin him if she found out he’d been wandering around alone—again.

 Besides—he hated needles.

 There was a pregnant pause before the man gripped his radio on his shoulder and canceled the EMTs.

 “Thanks,” Shepard mumbled, and then slumped against the hood of the police cruiser.

 “At least let me take a look?” the female officer asked, flashlight already in her hand and pointed on his face.

Shepard nodded and closed his eye as she inspected his face, gloved fingers gently touching his chin and tilting his head from side to side. The male cop had gone deeper into the alleyway as a second cop car arrived at the other end, flooding the alley in brilliant light that wormed its way in between Shepard’s brows.

 “Anything broken?” he asked quietly. He felt like he was on fire, every breath hurting.

 “The area is severely swollen so it’s a little hard to tell…” she said. She touched his cheek and he jerked away, the slightest brush enough to make him want to vomit again.

 “Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?” she asked.

 He opened his eye and peered at her through the light. She was looking at him with actual concern, big blue eyes pegging him in place. He wasn’t used to cops looking at him with anything but disgust.

 “I’m fine,” Shepard said. Slipping off the hood of the car he started to walk away, heading in the direction he hoped was home. It was hard to think let alone walk and talk at the same time. 

 “We need a statement from you,” the woman called.

 He didn’t turn back around and kept walking. He heard the male cop ask ‘Samara’ if she got his name, but he slipped around the corner and was gone before they could stop him.

 Shepard didn’t know how long it took for him to get home or, frankly, how he managed to in the first place, but he found himself sitting just outside the door staring at the crooked ‘3’ next to the ‘7’. Hugging his side he wiggled a loose tooth around with mild fascination as he contemplated his very existence.

 He couldn’t stand up alone, his body too weak and his brain swimming in juices inside his head. Instead he picked his broken phone out of his pocket and threw it against the door. He waited a beat before heavy footsteps could be heard approaching the door, and Jack in all her topless glory threw open the door and—

 “Oh my fucking god.”

 “Hey,” he mumbled weakly, and then passed out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wish I hadn't done that...
> 
> Oh who am I kidding? There is a reason for this rather abrupt attack, and I hope the direction the story takes from here on out is both exciting but also well-received by you all! Things are going to get a little darker and more violent, but I hope that I sprinkle in enough fluff that y'all stick with me!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and, as always, shout-out to Annaraven for her amazing beta-ing skills.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaidan experiences a sobering realization of what loving Shepard really entails

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Graphic depiction of serious injuries and wounds

“Your father isn’t going to be pleased.”

 Kaidan pushed his glass across the counter with the tip of his finger, watching the speckled patterning become distorted under the water.

 “Why do you say that?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

 He could hear his mother sigh on the other end of the line, followed by the swish of bedsheets as she rolled over. She’d called him from bed, exhaustion in her voice as she explained how she hadn’t been able to go home until six in the morning.

 He’d told her to go back to bed, but her penchant for gossip kept her awake.

 “Shepard’s not really what your father probably pictured for you, dear.”

 “You mean because he’s poor and uneducated?”

 “He looks a bit like the boys he deals with on a daily basis. But if you want to be blunt about it… yes,” she replied.

 Kaidan pursed his lips and tried to quell the anger rising up in him. Of course this wasn’t going to be easy—of course she was going to be blunt about it. He expected it, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. He thought last night had gone well; that Shepard had managed to impress despite his clear discomfort. Everyone seemed to like him, their interest in him and what he had to say extending past simple curiosity and courtesy, and Kaidan had begun to feel as if Shepard fit into his world a little neater than either had expected him to.

 But clearly that wasn’t the case. The cracks in the lies he’d concocted about Shepard’s life were already showing, the darkness of the night giving way to morning light and uncomfortable truths.

 “He’s a great guy…” Kaidan said. He was unsure of if he was angry _for_ Shepard, or with himself for lying to Shepard and making him believe this would be easy.

 “I know, Kaidan,” his mother began. “ _I_ like him, for what it’s worth. I think he’s very kind, and I can tell he cares for you a great deal. You look happy with him…”

 “But Dad won’t see it that way.”

 She sighed and rolled over again, her voice distant as she moved her phone from one ear to the next.

 “You know how he gets. He’s always been judgemental about these kind of things, and doubly so when it comes to your life. He just wants what’s best for you and doesn’t really think about your thoughts on the matter. He’s just… he loves you, Kaidan. Please keep that in mind.”

 He braced his hand on top of the counter and bit his bottom lip hard. His father had always coddled him—tried to shove him into a little box and keep him in it. He wanted what was best—Kaidan _knew_ that—but had never stopped to think that Kaidan had a life all his own. He had desires and aspirations that weren’t always in line with his father’s. That little kid in the hospital had grown up and beat back cancer, had decided to go to medical school instead of police work, and loved a man who spent time in prison and actively pushed back against the system his father worked hard to maintain.

_But is love enough?_

“Well… I’m glad you liked him,” Kaidan mumbled after a time. He didn’t want to think about Sunday and the inevitable meeting. He didn’t want to think about how his father was so fucking bullheaded sometimes. He didn’t want to think about the possibility that he’d be forced to make a choice between taking what he wanted, and maintaining what he had.

It was Ashley who had told him that he’d have to slip out from under his father’s thumb one day—carve a new path for himself whether his father thought it ‘best’ or not.

 “He’s lovely, Kaidan—truly. You looked genuinely happy, and with a little teamwork we can make your father see that as well. Just… keep in mind what I told you, and don’t be discouraged. Maybe if I slip him some Baileys in his coffee in the morning things will go a little smoother.”

 Kaidan tried to smile, but found it was difficult to in the privacy of his apartment.

 “It might not hurt. I might do the same for John.”

 There was some background noise like the sound of a door opening, and Kaidan could hear his father’s voice asking who was on the phone.

 “Just Kaidan,” his mother said, voice a bit distant before it returned to regular volumes. “Your father just got back from his shift. I’ll tell him about the invitation. Have a good day, and don’t fuss and obsess over the next few days. You know how you tend to overthink.”

 “Yeah, thanks Mum… love you.”

 He hung up the phone and tossed it across the counter, regretting the action as soon as the plastic cracked hard against the granite. Running a hand over his face, he let out a slow breath, the pulses of a migraine squirming its way into the back of his eye. Last night everything had seemed so simple…

 Of course it couldn’t last.

He swallowed the brick in his throat and pushed off the counter with gusto. Chancing a look at the clock on the microwave, he noted the time.

 11:45.

 Shepard would be over soon. They’d have lunch, fool around a bit, and then Kaidan would surprise him with tickets to a screening of the newly remastered Enter the Dragon.

 They’d live in the illusion together until Sunday.

XX

_[2:45 PM] Kaidan: I don’t want to be that obsessive guy who freaks out when his partner doesn’t text or call him, but I’m a bit worried right now. Just call me soon as you get this text. Loe you._

 Kaidan stared at his typo, lips twisted in a frown. His drink sat abandoned on the table, fizzy bubbles long since gone, lunch completely forgotten as he sat and stared down at his phone and the series of unanswered text bubbles that told Kaidan something was wrong.

 Shepard would flitter in and out of Kaidan’s world, present one day and then gone the next, his smile nothing but a faint imprint against Kaidan’s skin. It wasn’t unusual for Shepard to be gone for a week at a time, too busy, tired, paranoid, or a combination of all three to come and see Kaidan.

 But he never left a text unanswered.

 Something felt wrong; like he’d just swallowed a stone and it was getting stuck in his gullet, twisting around painfully, making it hard to think beyond the discomfort.

_Don’t be that needy asshole. Maybe he’s just caught up with work or something._

_Or maybe he’s lying in a gutter bleeding out because that’s something he’d do._

 Standing, Kaidan grabbed his hoodie and threw it on before leaving the apartment. Clutching his phone he waited for that reassuring vibration that told him Shepard was alright.

 It never came, even as he hurried down the streets toward the Eastside.

 He didn’t know the area well enough to navigate it like Shepard did, but he knew where Shepard’s apartment was and kept an eye out for landmarks. Shepard had told him that he couldn’t come to the Eastside anymore—that it wasn’t safe now that Blood Pack knew his face and knew his connection—but he brushed aside Shepard’s worries for him and replaced them with his own. If Shepard was in trouble then it was worth the minimal risk.

Throwing his hood up, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked down the busy streets, ignoring the smell of piss wafting out of the alleyways and the occasional request for spare change that he didn’t have on him. Shepard’s apartment was across the street from a run-down sushi restaurant, the red awning almost pale pink from years of bleaching under the sun. He kept his head up, eyes scanning the rows of shops, using his search as a welcome distraction from the sickness in his throat.

_Calm down. He’s probably alright. You’re going to show up at his apartment and he’s going to be there, and he’s going to laugh at you and make you feel like a total idiot for worrying. Just keep calm._

 He turned the corner to see the sushi shop, a gaggle of school kids standing out front with takeaway boxes in their hands. Crossing the street against the light and dodging an oncoming cyclist, he practically ran up the steps of the apartment, ignoring the questioning looks of those lounging against the wall next to the door.

 Reaching Shepard’s apartment Kaidan knocked on the door quickly, bouncing back on the heels of his feet as he waited for someone to come open up.

 No one came.

 There was no noise coming from the apartment—no heavy footsteps or swearing from Jack, no sounds of video game massacres or kung-fu fighting, and when Kaidan stepped back he noted there was no light coming through the crack at the bottom of the door.

 He swallowed the brick in his throat and knocked again.

 “It’s Kaidan,” he called through the door, thinking maybe they were just being careful. Shepard had talked about getting jumped at his apartment once before.

 Still no answer.

 “Fuck.”

 Closing his eyes he stepped back from the door, breathing evenly through his nose as his migraine pressed hard through the cocktail of drugs he’d taken earlier. He could feel the muscles in his neck begin to throb, and knew the migraine was going to win if he didn’t calm down.

_Think, Kaidan. Where could he be? The club he works at? Wandering the streets? In a hospital?_

 The click of a door opening broke Kaidan from his thoughts, and he glanced down the hallway to see an elderly woman poking her head out the door, Coke-bottle glasses slipping down her nose as she peered at him through the dim lights of the hallway.

 “Are you looking for someone?” she asked, voice trembling.

 “Just a friend,” Kaidan said. “I don’t think he’s home, though.”

 She stepped further out of her apartment, her knobby hands gripping the edge of the door like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

 “That boy with the scar and his girlfriend with the tattoos?”

 “Yeah, that’s them. Have you seen them?”

 She shook her head and blinked a few times, big blue eyes watering. “I haven’t seen them all day, but I heard them last night. They were banging around for a couple of minutes and were making a terrible racket. Then I heard the door close and staggered footsteps down the hallway. And then they were gone. I think one of them was drunk.”

 “What time was this; do you remember?” he asked, hope rising.

 Jack was with him. That was a good sign.

 “Must have been a little past four in the morning. I remember because I was set to be up soon. I like to watch the morning news, you see.”

 “Thanks for the information,” he said, forcing a smile as he passed.

 She nodded and waved him goodbye, pink tracksuit matching her nails.

 “Good luck!” she called as he headed down the stairs.

 Shepard wasn’t home, but he was also with Jack—or had left with her, at the very least.

 Still, Kaidan wasn’t satisfied. Shepard’s radio silence still tugged at the back of his mind. He needed to get more information—he needed to find someone who knew the Eastside part of him well.

 He needed to find Garrus.

XX

 “He hasn’t been in here for over a week, Kaidan. Sorry.”

 Kaidan nodded, hands stuffed deep in his pockets as he listened to Garrus tell him nothing of use.

 “Did you try calling him?” a blonde woman with a thick accent asked. She had been sitting at the counter with a binder full of numbers and spreadsheets in front of her, cats-eye glasses reflecting the flashing lights from the pinball machine in the corner.

 “I’m pretty sure he tried calling, Edi,” Garrus said, Kaidan catching a barely contained eye-roll.

 She ignored him and turned back to Kaidan. “Did you check the bar he works at? It is called Afterlife.”

 “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Garrus said. Pushing himself off the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest. “If you start asking around for Shepard there you’re liable to uh… well, let’s just say people will start asking about _you_.”

 Kaidan nodded. “Yeah, probably not a good idea.”

 The less people knew about him, the better it was for everyone involved.

 “He could just be busy,” Garrus supplied. Kaidan could hear the worry in his voice and it did little to assuage his own fears. If Garrus sounded worried, something was definitely off.

 “We both know how much he likes to wander. He can be gone for weeks before I see him again,” Garrus continued.

 “He is like a stray cat,” Edi said matter-of-factly. “Perhaps you could leave a pack of cigarettes and a bowl of beer outside your door at night.”

 Kaidan almost laughed.

 “Can you call him?” Kaidan asked, stepping toward the bar. “He might just be ignoring me.”

 Garrus nodded and pulled his phone out. Kaidan stood anxiously, waiting for Shepard to pick up. But Garrus put his phone down after a few rings, thin lips twisted in a frown.

 “Sorry, Kaidan,” he said.

 Kaidan bit back his frustrations as another pulse of pain shot through his skull and down his neck. Clenching his jaw, he took a few steadying breaths before relaxing. He just had to be logical about this. Shepard was gone with Jack, the two leaving early in the morning—shortly after Shepard got home, no doubt. The only reason he would ignore calls and text messages were if he was at work, or…

_Beat up and lying in a ditch somewhere._

For a brief moment he contemplated calling his dad and asking if they’d had any incidents last night. But the idea was brushed aside as quickly as it had come.

 “I would not worry, Kaidan. He will come back—he always does.”

 He looked over at Edi. She smiled at him.

 “I’m gonna go check his apartment again. See if he’s come back or… whatever,” he said, already half-way to the door.

 “Keep me posted,” Garrus called.

 “Y-yeah,” Kaidan mumbled, and shoved the door open with his side, hands still bunched up into fists inside his hoodie’s pockets.

 Clouds began to cover the sky, the warmth of the early spring sun waning. Throwing his hood up he continued on his way, ignoring the breeze from the ocean that cut into his sinuses like a knife. It didn’t take long to get back to Shepard’s apartment, Kaidan already beginning to remember his way, and he rounded a third corner only to stop dead in his tracks.

 There was a woman standing outside an expensive car parked in front. Everything about her spoke of power—from the sharp heels that cut through the grit and grime below her, to the expensive coat she wore that was worth more than the entire block’s worth of real-estate. Black hair was slicked back showing the sharp angles of her features, and Kaidan caught the flash of something silver and expensive on her wrist as she pocketed her phone.

 She was different from the rest of those on the Eastside, and yet she looked like she owned the place—like she made the streets with her own two hands, molding the poverty and desperation, the racial and class tension, to suit her goals.

 She looked like she _was_ Downtown Eastside.

 She was Shepard’s boss. She had to be.

 This was Aria.

 He’d seen photographs of her before when he’d snuck into his father’s office as a teenager. Blurry and grainy, obviously taken at a distance, but there was no mistaking her. Just the sight of her made his gut clench. This wasn’t a good sign.

 She was speaking to a large man, black hair tied back in a long braid and three scar lines running jagged down one side of his face. He seemed uninterested in whatever she was telling him, shrugging now and again as he looked all around—up and down the streets then behind at the double doors into the apartment.

 Kaidan hung back and leaned against the side of a corner store, foot kicked up against the wall as he watched them from a respectable distance. Shepard had to be back. There would be no reason for all of this if he wasn’t nearby. Aria didn’t seem the type to come out of her car for just anyone.

 A few more words were exchanged before Aria opened the back passenger-side door and stepped in, slamming the door closed before the car sped away, leaving the large man behind. He sighed—Kaidan could almost hear it—before he leaned against the stoop and settled in.

 He was waiting for someone or something?

 Or perhaps he was trying to prevent someone from going in.

 There was no way Kaidan could just get in from the front door. The man was clearly there for a reason, and Kaidan suspected a foreign face like his wouldn’t go unnoticed. He couldn’t be seen by anyone connected to Shepard—there would be too much fallout if someone other than Jack knew.

 But he had to get inside.

 Kaidan ducked his head and stared down at the sidewalk, hand clenched around his phone in his pocket. There was no back entrance—he already knew that—and even if there was it was going to be locked. Kaidan wasn’t prepared to commit a crime to see Shepard, no matter how desperate he was.

 Basement? No, it would be locked as well. Besides, Kaidan suspected the basement hadn’t seen the light of day since the 20th century, and he _hated_ spiders.

_Can’t go around, can’t go under… but you can go up._

 Shepard’s bedroom window looked out on a rusted old fire escape, Kaidan having long since noted the pattern the shadows from the grates played on the ceiling in the early morning. If he could get to the ladder and pull himself up…

 He counted the buildings. Shepard’s apartment was the third one in.

 Pushing off the wall Kaidan went back the way he came, retracing his steps until he came to the alleyway entrance. There was a small village of tents and cardboard houses pressed up against the buildings in the back, large garbage cans open and long since pilfered before the city could collect. People milled about, going about their day in a surprisingly quiet manner, Kaidan noting one of the homeless women had a baby in her arms.

 His father sometimes talked about the raids they’d have to do. They’d go down once a month and destroy the small shanty-towns, telling the already homeless to go be homeless somewhere else. It was a fruitless endeavour. They rebuilt the next day, that much more bitter about the police and all the more determined to stay where they were.

 There was a safe injection site across the street, and a Tim Horton’s a block away that didn’t push away their homeless clients. It was a good space for them—a safe space, or so his father had said.

 He took a steadying breath and hid his wrist deep in his pocket, hiding his expensive watch as he stepped into the alley. A few people looked at him, peering through what Kaidan suspected was a drug haze, but no one gave him any trouble.

 Stopping in front of the third building, he looked up at the fire escape’s ladder, noting the years of rust on the corner joints.

 “You gonna jump up to that?” an older man asked as he sat beneath it with a cup of cheap coffee.

 Kaidan looked down at him then back up at the ladder.

 “Yeah… yeah, I guess so.”

 The man scooted over to the side and waved his hand at the wall. “Good luck.”

 “Thanks.”

 He took a couple of steps back, trying to judge the distance between the ground and the ladder. If he got lucky he’d only have to attempt it once…

 He ran at the wall and kicked up it, launching himself toward the lowest rung of the ladder. Much to his surprise and to the homeless man’s amusement, he made it, fingers wrapping around the old bars like when he was a kid on the playground all over again.

 Dangling for a second, he collected himself before he reached up for the second, pulling his body along as his arm muscles screamed out at him. It was easier than he’d anticipated, years spent at the gym perfecting his looks lending themselves to something practical for the first time. He ignored some of the hoot and hollers from the onlookers and concentrated on not snapping his arms from their sockets the further he got up the ladder.

 Soon enough he could get his feet on the lowest rung, and he couldn’t help but grin as he scampered up the rest of it and swung around onto the landing of the first floor.

 He didn’t have the patience to catch his breath and instead took off up the escape, ignoring the creak and groan of the century-old metal as it protested the movement. Reaching the third floor, Kaidan practically careened into the window, desperate to see Shepard and—

 “Oh my god.”

 From what Kaidan could see through the watermarks and grime it wasn’t good. Shepard was lying on the bed, propped up like some stuffed animal, head turned to the side and eyes shut. Or eye, as the case may have been. The other was swollen up, covered by grotesque bruises of red and purple and black, a shine to his skin like he’d been crying.

 Probably had been.

 Jack was sitting on the end of his bed, legs curled up under her, an oddly vulnerable look to her as she stared at Shepard with much the same horror as Kaidan was feeling.

 He knocked on the window and Jack turned to him, fear and anger in her gaze before she recognized him. Jumping off the bed toward the window, she jerked it open after a few failed attempts, wood rubbing against wood and squeaking loudly with the friction.

 “What the fuck are you—“

 Kaidan ignored Jack and shoved his way in through the window, almost falling on his face in the process. He didn’t care.

 He stood up and took Shepard in. He looked even worse without the distortion of the window. The entire left side of his face was swollen and bruised, the right scratched up and looking oddly like road-rash. Kaidan could see the beginning of a bruise on his chest from under the blankets, and it was with some regret that he pulled the blanket back and saw the kaleidoscope of bruises all along his side—black and angry.

 “What happened?” he asked through gritted teeth, throat tight.

 “Come with me,” Jack mumbled. “He needs to sleep.”

 He followed her out of the bedroom trying to quell the anger that had curled up in his gut like a dragon. He didn’t care what had happened—in that moment all he cared about was finding whoever did it and making them feel just like Shepard did. He wanted to hit them. He wanted to kick them. He wanted to _hurt_ them. To make them beg for mercy and to know that the pain they felt was all because of Shepard.

 He wanted revenge.

 He steadied himself on the kitchen counter, knuckles white as he gripped the edges. Breathing hard through his nose he closed his eyes and swallowed back the sour taste of hate. He remembered the last time this had happened; remembered how easily he could hurt someone if he didn’t stay in control.

 Rahna’s terrified face and the sickening crack of Vyrnnus’ skull as it made contact with the pavement flashed through his head, pulsing along with his migraine.

_It’s not worth it. Just… concentrate on Shepard._

 “You okay?” Jack asked, obvious concern leaking into her voice.

 He looked up from the counter, vision solidifying as he took her in. She wasn’t wearing any make-up, and her short, bristled hair made her look like Shepard’s younger brother more than anything else. She had a vulnerability to her that Kaidan didn’t even know she possessed.

 “Not really,” he said, straightening. “You?”

 She shrugged.

 “What happened?”

 “Got jumped—we think. He’s got a concussion so he wasn’t really making a lot of sense. He doesn’t remember a lot.” She hugged herself, jaw clenched tight. “He just showed up here last night covered in his own blood and vomit, and just… shit. It was brutal. I thought he was…”

 She clamped up then, tears welling in her eyes. Kaidan stayed where he was.

 “I got him to the hospital and they said he looks worse than he actually is,” she continued, voice getting steadier. “He’s got a concussion and some broken ribs, but they said it’s mostly just like… bruises and shit. They put him on a bunch of pain meds and said he’d probably sleep for the next week.”

 “They didn’t want to keep him? To monitor him or something?”

 “He refused to stay. Said he didn’t like hospitals and they couldn’t keep him. I called our boss but even she couldn’t convince him. So… yeah. Sent us off with some painkillers and told him to sleep propped up.”

 Kaidan had noted the bottles lined up on his bedside table, right next to his model spaceship. They must have cost a fortune.

 “I can help with the drug cost,” he said, desperate to be of some help. “They can’t have been cheap.”

 “Our boss bought them. We look out for family around here,” she said.

 Jack sat down at the counter, arms still wrapped around her torso. She wouldn’t look at Kaidan—just kept her gaze on Shepard’s bedroom door.

 “Do you know who did it?” he asked, trying to quell the urge for revenge yet again.

 “We’ve got our suspicions.”

 “Blood Pack?”

 She looked at him then, eyes narrowing. “How do you—never mind.”

 Blood Pack. It was definitely Blood Pack. Who else would try and beat a man to death?

 The realization that Shepard almost died last night hit Kaidan like a punch to the gut, and he leaned heavily against the counter.

_I almost lost him…_

_And for what? Gang territory? A chance to sell more drugs to the poor guys in the alleyway?_

 “I hate this,” he mumbled.

 “Yeah… me too,” Jack said.

 “Is there anything I can do? I can call my dad and—“

 “No,” Jack said quickly. “Don’t bother fucking calling the cops, Kaidan. You know as well as I do that they’re not going to be any fucking help. As far as they’re concerned, we’re all just inevitable casualties in these fucked up wars. Until one of _you_ gets killed, they don’t care.”

 “That’s not true. They do care. That’s why they’re here, day in and day out, looking out for all the little people your boss steps over—including her ‘family’. Shepard deserves better than this. He deserves a fighting chance—a chance to live a life of… a life of integrity. He’s better than this. All of this. And so are you, Jack.”

 His words sounded hollow even to him.

 “Yeah… whatever.”

 She hopped off her stool and went to stand by the window, her back to him. Her shirt was thin and tattered, tattoos visible beneath the white fabric. He watched the largest one move as she rolled her shoulders back, trying to work out the tension.

  “Shepard knew what he was getting into,” she said quietly. “We all did. You seem to be the only one who doesn’t get it. We’re out here fighting a war day in and day out. We’re just trying to fucking survive—from the cops and from each other. So save your fucking petty ass excuses for your dad and for cops, and save your fucking judgements about the lives we live. We’re not you, Kaidan—Shepard isn’t you. So just accept it or fuck off.”

 Kaidan didn’t know what to say. He just stood in his brand name shoes and clothes, wearing his Swiss watch his grandmother bought him with no thought of expense, staring at a woman who had nothing but the man in the room next to hers.

 “I’m… I want to help,” Kaidan eventually said.

 Jack’s shoulders slouched. Glancing over her shoulder, she nodded her head to the bedroom.

 “Go and, I dunno… lie next to him or something. He’s going to be pretty out of it for a while, but he’ll probably want to see you…”

 Kaidan nodded. He could do that. He could definitely do that.

 Approaching Shepard’s room, he paused with his hand around the knob.

 “Hey… Jack?”

 “Save the ‘thank you’s and the ‘are you okay’s and just fuck off. I need a break from your pompous ass.”

 Kaidan nodded and went into Shepard’s room instead.

Motionless save for the small, steady rise of his chest, Shepard lay on his bed like a man prepared for his final sleep. There was a slight wheeze to his breathing, broken ribs protesting the simple movement, and yet he pressed on even in his sleep, determined and stubborn even then.

 Kaidan undressed down to his briefs and decided last minute to take those off as well. Sliding into bed next to Shepard, he kept his hands to himself, arms wrapping around his waist as he hugged himself. He was afraid if he so much as touched Shepard he’d shatter into a million fragments—taken away from Kaidan like Shepard always thought he would be.

 Scooting close he pressed his nose against Shepard’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could say these two boys get a reprieve, but the train we're on has no breaks, and we're heading down a steep tunnel. Hold on tight!
> 
> Thanks to Annaraven for her lovely beta work, and a big thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying this fanfiction. I can't properly explain to you all how much your support and encouragement means to me, but just know that this story is a labour of love that is made even more special with your involvement. Whether you just read, or you read, leave kudos, and comment-- your presence is felt, acknowledged, and cherished :)
> 
> (Also note: the story has a definitive number of chapters now: 33!)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Depictions of extensive injury/death
> 
> And with that warning out of the way, here is a happy warning: Wrex!

 For four days Shepard lay on his bed.

 For four days he slept through the pain and the concussion, the mix of painkillers and the haze of memory loss. He’d wake from time to time, aware of the ache on his side and the swirl of vertigo around his head, and ask for a glass of water or a bite to eat before he’d drift off again, unsure of anything he’d done just a minute ago.

 Kaidan was there—or so Shepard believed. He could feel his emotions on some instinctual level even though he couldn’t be sure he was physically there with him. Fear, anger, and the heavy weight of annoyance sat on Shepard’s chest whenever he woke, and he was certain Kaidan was nearby. But the press of Kaidan’s nose against his temple, and his breathy voice brushing against his bruised and tender cheek could have all just been wild fabrications made up by his concussed brain.

The fact that he thought he saw Kaidan crawling through his bedroom window definitely had to be the pain meds talking.

 But on the fifth day the haze lifted somewhat, and Shepard found himself staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom with more clarity than he’d felt for a very long time, watching the shadows of his curtains fluttering in the wind with mild curiosity.

 His side hurt like a sonofabitch—that was the first thing he noticed. He was propped up on some pillows, lounging in his bed like an elderly man of leisure. Any time he breathed in he felt a sharp, pinching pain along his side just under his breast, and vaguely remembered being told he broke a few ribs by the burly nurse in the emergency ward.

 The second thing he noticed was that he could see through both eyes, something he was pretty certain he couldn’t do a few days before.

 The third thing he noticed was that he desperately needed a shower. The smell of antiseptic and hospital grit sat heavy in his nose, and he could feel the pull of butterfly bandages and cotton on his face and arms. The sickeningly sweet stench of wounds and bruises was all around him, and if it weren’t for the pressing pain against his side he’d have probably thrown up on himself.

 Instead he let out a rather pitiful moan, one which drew the attention of the person sitting at his desk in the corner.

 “John?”

 Kaidan’s face came into view, dark brows drawn close together as he peered down at him through the gloom of the mid-morning light. Shepard tried to smile, the excitement upon actually seeing Kaidan and recognizing him as something other than a dream enough to make him throw caution to the wind and chance an expression. But as soon as he smiled he could feel all the bruised muscles in his face protest, and he dropped it quickly.

 It was enough, however. Kaidan returned the smile as he sat down on the bed, already fussing away as he straightened Shepard’s blanket and tickled the corner of his jaw with the pads of his fingers.

 “How you feeling?” Kaidan asked.

 “Like a piece of meat that’s just been run over a few times,” he mumbled.

 “Yeah—you’ll feel like that for a while,” Kaidan replied. He leaned forward and gently kissed Shepard, one Shepard returned with carefully contained enthusiasm. When he pulled away he continued. “Docs told us to wean you off the heavy painkillers last night, so you’re going to feel a bit more pain for a little while. Good news is you won’t feel as groggy… small blessings, eh?”

 “Us?”

 “Jack and I,” Kaidan clarified. “We’ve been taking shifts—making sure you don’t fall out of bed or need anything. She’s sleeping right now.”

_Damn. I dragged everyone into this mess…_

 He could feel his memory slipping once more, unsure of whether he’d asked Kaidan what happened or how long he’d been out for. He had a feeling he hadn’t, but he couldn’t be sure.

 “How uh… how long was I knocked out for?” he asked hesitantly.

 “You mean before or after the visit to the hospital?”

 “Both?”

 Kaidan sighed and leaned up against the headboard next to Shepard. “Jack said you passed out for only thirty seconds when she found you in the hallway, but you woke up shortly after that. As for the general sleeping… four days? You’ve been pretty out of it what with the concussion and… yeah.”

 Kaidan sighed and rubbed his eyes. Shepard noted that he was wearing one of Shepard’s hoodies—the black one with the red and white stripes across the arm. Some piece of shit hoodie he’d bought at a thrift store, but something he found himself unable to part with even after the wrists began to fray.

 The room began to spin.

 Closing his eyes, he breathed evenly through his nose, ignoring the ache in his side with each intake of breath and instead concentrating on the rustle of Kaidan’s papers on the desk. Opening his eyes he looked over at his desk, finding it covered in textbooks, charts, and scrap pieces of paper with math and chemistry problems scribbled all over them. Kaidan’s Mac book was open, and it too had multiple charts open on the screen, a tiny text bubble in the corner from one conversation or another.

 And, true to Kaidan, there were three empty coffee mugs strewn about, Shepard’s favourite resting next to the laptop with steam coming off the top. 

 “You didn’t have to wait with me…” he said, already feeling horribly guilty that whatever had happened caused such a disruption in everyone’s life.

 “I wanted to. I couldn’t sit in my office or at home when I knew you were… well…” He waved his hand across Shepard’s body.

 “Yeah…”

 He still wanted that shower but just the thought of getting up made his head hurt.

 He had no idea how he’d pissed and shit over the last four days, but he couldn’t imagine the journey to and from the bathroom was a fun one.

 “What do you remember… you know, about that day?” Kaidan asked quietly.

 Shepard stared dead ahead. He honestly couldn’t remember. It was like there was a blank space in his memory—a big black gap where there should have been something. Anything he was able to conjure came at him in broken fragments—the flash of a light, the smile of a woman, the taste of whiskey and blood in the back of his throat. Any time he came up with something more solid it was like trying to hold onto smoke, the memory rushing away quickly as it had come, leaving only traces of frustration.

 He’d had a concussion before and knew it was par for the course, but…

_Fucking hell._

 He tried to sit up a little straighter, biting back the pain in his side and the ache between his eyebrows. He noted he was wearing a fresh pair of boxers, trace amounts of laundry soap that hadn’t washed off rubbing off on his fingers as he tried to sort himself out.

 “I remember… getting dressed to go to the fundraiser,” he said, deciding he’d start from what he _knew_ had happened and hoping his brain would fill in the gaps. “And I remember going to your place… and meeting… Anderson, I think. At the party.”

 “Yeah, we ran into him and Kaylee Sanders.”

 Shepard didn’t remember her, but nodded all the same.

“Right. And then… then I remember an ice sculpture… and I remember…”

 “Do you remember my mum?”

 Shepard closed his eyes, desperate to find her—even just an image of her—in the pile of fragmented memories.

 “I remember her hair,” he finally said. “She has hair like yours only longer.”

  Kaidan took Shepard’s hand in his own, playing with his fingers idly. “That’s something.”

 “And I remember her inviting me over for brunch.”

 “I cancelled that. We’ll go when you’re better.”

 Shepard hummed out a thank you, holding back another grimace as the rumble danced across his ribs.

 “Do you remember the incident that landed you in this mess?” Kaidan asked after a time.

 Shepard shifted again, noting that there was most definitely a bruise on his ass of all places. His recollection grew worse the further on in the evening he tried to recall. There was just unease in his gut—like his body remembered more than he did.

 “I remember… an alleyway… and the cops showing up. And then being in the hospital with Jack and… I think my boss. And then I was home and you were climbing through my window?”

 Kaidan sighed and Shepard heard him knock the back of his head against the wall. “You’ve got a bodyguard posted outside the apartment keeping an eye on things. Or, at least, that’s what Jack’s been telling me. I can’t just go in through the front so... yeah, been climbing up your fire escape.”

 Shepard would have laughed if he knew it wouldn’t hurt. Instead he smiled, ignoring the way skin tugged uncomfortably across the bruises on his face.

 “Who is it?” he asked.

 “I… never actually asked for his name. Uh… he’s big and tall, black hair in a braid… I think he’s First Nations? And uh… oh, he’s got three scars on his face like this.”

 Shepard turned to see Kaidan drawing three lines down the side of his face with his fingers.

 “That’d be Wrex.”

 “He’s uh… intimidating,” Kaidan said, chuckling nervously.

 “He’s harmless so long as you’re on his good side.”

 Shepard was already forgetting parts of their conversation. He couldn’t remember if he’d asked where Jack was, and wasn’t sure if he wanted to embarrass himself by asking again. Instead he concentrated on his original goal.

 “Have time to help me with the shower?” he asked, smiling ruefully at Kaidan.

 “Yeah, totally.”

 If he thought too hard about what he missed he’d get frustrated. The fact that he’d lost all recollection of the event that almost had him hospitalized was unnerving and, in many respects, absolutely terrifying. He didn’t know who did it—didn’t know what had started it. His confidence had been stripped away along with his memory, and he was left without any notion of where he stood.

 It made him feel sick to his stomach, it made him feel weak, and it made him feel vulnerable, completely at the mercy of his gang and those around him.

 And the fact that Aria saw fit to post Wrex at the front door was unsettling. If Aria was concerned, Shepard knew he had cause for it as well.

 He just wished he could remember what it was he was supposed to be preparing for.

 Getting up from the bed proved to be the most challenging part of the entire operation.

 Shepard’s side rattled shut like an accordion, ribs rubbing together painfully and squeezing all the sore muscles as he shifted to the edge of the bed. His head still felt oversized and filled with liquid, his right eye sensitive to the light, and the dull throbbing that wiggled its way from the tips of his toes up to the top of his head was expanded ten-fold as he stood with the help of Kaidan.

 But the walk to the shower was easier. Once straightened he found he could breathe a little easier, and he shuffled down the hallway with Kaidan at his side, ignoring his concerned looks in favour of making it through to the bathroom.

 He shifted his weight from Kaidan’s arm to the bathroom sink, leaning against it as Kaidan began to prep the shower. Closing his eyes, he fought off another wave of vertigo as the water started up, the noise of the droplets hitting the plastic floor harsh in his ears. Shifting so he was standing in front of the mirror, Shepard changed a glance and opened his eyes to see himself for the first time.

 The first thing that caught his attention was his eye. The swelling had gone down but the damage had been done. A dark, purple bruise tinged with red and yellow circled around the socket and down his cheek, colouring half of his face in mottled blots. His eye was now visible, but it had turned a disgusting red, the blood vessels having popped sometime shortly after the attack. His lip was sliced at the corner and puckered, his other cheek scratched from the pavement and scabbed over with red flecks, and Shepard felt the bruising on the back of his skull from a kick or the initial fall.

 He still couldn’t remember.

 Probably never would.

 Standing back he took in his stomach and chest. For a second Shepard thought maybe he was seeing things—that the red in his eye was discolouring his stomach—but when he touched the upper bruise over his sternum he knew it was all true. His torso was covered in bruises—some healing and others still deep and dark. The place where his ribs were broken had a sickening reddish-black tint to it, like someone had mixed old blood with new and slathered it onto his skin.

 He quelled the sickness that roiled through his system again and leaned forward, keeping his sides straight but avoiding the risk of falling down.

 Looking at the bruises made him feel even more like shit.

 Kaidan appeared in view of the mirror, giving Shepard something to focus on other than himself. He’d stripped down naked, dark fuzzy hair on his chest a gentle reminder of how much Kaidan had slacked off on personal care. His hairy chest had gone from manageable to a complete forest.

 “How you feeling?” he asked as he caressed Shepard’s shoulders and down his back, stopping at the band of his boxers.

_I feel scared._

 “I’ve got my answer for if you’ll still love me when I’m no longer beautiful,” he said, trying to deflect. “I look like shit, K.”

 Chuckling, Kaidan kissed the back of his neck. “I’ve grown used to the purple. You wear it well.”

 Stepping into the shower had been a trial in and of itself. The hot water was like jumping into a vat of acid, every cut and scrape on his body screaming out as water worked its way across his limbs and down his back. The only thing that kept him from crying out was the ever-present searing twinge along his side, telling him if he so much as took a deep breath or let out a yell he’d be in for another world of hurt.

 Instead he leaned on Kaidan and let his body adjust to the water, his eyes shut and body straining under the stimuli all around. For a second—a brief, frightening second—Shepard thought he was going to pass out, the vertigo in his head and the pain from the cuts enough to render a man senseless.

 But then it started to ease up. The pain faded the longer he stayed under the spray, and Kaidan’s petting across his back brought Shepard back from the brink. Keeping his face against Kaidan’s skin and his arms around his waist, he leaned his entire weight on him, trusting Kaidan to keep him upright.

 The last time he’d been this hurt he had no one to help him. No one cared about the fifteen year old street kid who got caught in the crosshairs of two coked up assholes coming out of a club. Beaten within an inch of his life under the delusion he’d stolen one of their wallets, he’d been left to bleed out next to a garbage can, unable to move from the pain. It had only been through the grace of a homeless woman he’d made it to the local clinic, and had spent the next few weeks tending to his injuries in the local shelter, pretending to be older than he was so he wasn’t thrown back into the system he’d run away from.

 But now he had Kaidan and Jack. Now he had someone to watch his back while he held back tears he refused to let fall.

 Kaidan helped him wash, his touch gentle as they washed away the disinfectant and old bandage glue. The vertigo continued but with Kaidan next to him, Shepard could just close his eyes and work through it at his own pace.

 Stepping out he dried himself carefully, and waited patiently while Kaidan went and got a fresh pair of pajamas. Once dressed and clean Shepard felt a little less vulnerable, the soft cloth of his pajamas hiding away the bruises and giving him a sense of humility.

 The thought of going back to his bed left Shepard with a sour taste in his mouth, and instead of continuing after Kaidan he turned into the living room and sat down on the couch with care, tentatively testing the limits of his ribs and how far he could bend before he’d choke on the pain again. Resting his eyes for a moment, he breathed in evenly—in and out, in and out—and settled his system before opening his eyes again, catching Kaidan coming out of the bedroom with his now lukewarm coffee in hand and a booklet under his arm.

 “What are you reading?” he asked.

 “University readings. A recent journal came out on some of the stuff I’m studying,” Kaidan explained as he sat down on the beat-up lounge chair next to the couch.

 Shepard watched him with heavy lidded eyes, finally able to take him in. He looked exhausted—the stubble on his cheeks darker and eyes cloudy, with deep bags under them. He kept flexing his jaw, and Shepard knew he was fighting back yet another migraine. He looked weary.

_You put this on him. This is all you._

“Hey, Kaidan.”

 Kaidan turned, brow quirked. “Yeah?”

 “How you holding up?” he asked.

 Kaidan hesitated only a second before tossing his booklet down on the table. Taking a sip of his coffee, he put that down too but remained hunched over, elbows on his knees as he stared down at the floor.

 “I’m just… I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around what happened,” he mumbled. “I mean, finding out you had been beaten half to death in an alleyway it… it brought a lot of my inner fears to life, you know?”

Shepard knew. Kaidan knew on some base level that what had happened had always been a possibility. But to have that chance become a reality was a tough thing to bear.

 “That’s just a possibility in my line of work,” he said, sitting a little straighter. “I’m sorry.”

 Kaidan shook his head before looking up at Shepard. He could tell he was pissed before he even opened his mouth.

 “No, this isn’t a line of work, John. This is—this is just some fucked up life you’ve built for yourself that you think is perfectly normal, and right, and just, when you know damn well it’s not. It’s none of those things. People don’t just walk down the street and—and just expect to be jumped at any moment. You almost died, John. You almost died because of some—some fucked up… gang business! And for what? For this shitty apartment and a couple bucks to spare for a coffee every week?”

_For somewhere to belong._

_For protection._

_For a family._

 Kaidan had everything a kid could have possibly dreamed of growing up. A family and friends who gave a damn, money and an education—the chance to start things off right and continue to live a normal and right and just life. He didn’t know what desperation was—didn’t know how Shepard joined a gang because it was either that or death. No one gave a shit about him but Omega.

 Kaidan didn’t see it that way, however, and try as Shepard might, his argument started to sound weak even to his own ears.

 But he didn’t want to admit that. Couldn’t admit that—not now. Not after taking a literal beating for his associations. It had to have happened for a _reason_.

 “Omega means a lot to me,” Shepard said, rubbing the omega tattoo on his hand—a physical reminder of who he belonged to. He was starting to feel ill again, but swallowed back the nausea. “We’re a family—we look out for each other. I’m not the first to take a hit like this and I won’t be the last. But… we need to protect the family. If it means getting beat in some alley then—“

 “Bullshit. Pardon my language, but your boss is a piece of shit.”

 Kaidan’s venom caught Shepard off-guard, and he looked back up at him with a start. Kaidan’s lips were pulled in tight, skin white with barely contained rage. But Shepard could tell the anger wasn’t directed at him—he’d been at the receiving end of a glare before, and Kaidan wasn’t looking at him that way.

 He was angry _for_ him.

 “You think so highly of your boss, but what has she done for you, eh? Given you a job? A job that almost gets you killed? A job that leaves you in the prison system effectively taking away your future? A job that—that gets you arrested and thrown in a cell twice a _month_? A job that leaves you literally beaten and dying on the streets? Your boss doesn’t give a shit about you, John. She cares about results and profits, and the only reason you’re still around is because you’re useful to her. She’s a criminal, John, and you’re just another one of her victims.”

 Kaidan’s eloquence was the first shocking thing. The second was how much passion he said it with.

 No one had ever said it like that; been blunt with the truths that Shepard had been wrestling with for so long. Aria didn’t give a shit—he knew that, everyone knew that. But it was better to be with her than against her. You didn’t just walk away from her; she kept you and that was that. Shepard had known guys who tried to get away—went to the cops or just left the city—and every single one ended up dead within the year. None made it out.

 You didn’t fuck with Aria.

 Shepard didn’t want to accept the fact that the only place that had offered him shelter was just as corrupt as all the other systems he’d run from. So he bottled it up and denied.

 Denied, denied, denied.

 “You’re talking like a cop’s kid, K. In reality it’s a lot more complicated,” he mumbled.

 Kaidan made a clicking sound with his tongue and shook his head. “I’m talking like a realist—a person with some… some common sense. You deserve better, John. You are better than this.” He waved his hand along Shepard’s body again. 

“Kaidan—“

 “Your boss isn’t worth a single drop of blood, John,” Kaidan continued, voice becoming softer—desperate, almost. “She’s not worth it; Omega’s not worth it. You just need to see what I see and realize that this—all of this—isn’t worth it. You’re better than this…”

 Shepard squared his jaw and looked back down at his feet, trying to bite back the fucking selfish, asshole comebacks he wanted to say in order to protect himself.

_You don’t know my life. It’s not that fucking simple. You’re a fucking naïve ** ~~,~~** cop’s kid—of course you’d say this. What you’re saying isn’t true. You’re out of fucking line, Alenko._

 Instead he shrugged, embracing the pull along his side as the broken ribbed rubbed.

 “Jack downloaded the latest Star Wars movie… got time to watch it?” he asked.

 Kaidan’s shoulders sagged, eyes softening. He sighed—long and loud—before nodding. “Sure.”

_Thank you._

 Kaidan grabbed the remote and passed it to Shepard before settling down beside him with his coffee in hand. Shepard pressed up as close to him as he could without hurting himself, and relaxed into his embrace as Kaidan wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

 “I’m only relenting because you’re feeling terrible,” Kaidan said, kissing Shepard’s temple. “But I’m not going to stop telling you that you’re better than this. And I’m not going to stop worrying about you.”

 Shepard sighed. “Wasn’t counting on it.”

XX

 “You ain’t dead, eh?”

 Shepard chucked the half-finished smoke to the ground, narrowly missing Finch’s shoes in the process. It hurt to smoke, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

 “Nah—only thing that could kill me is your fucking presence,” he said.

 Wrex grinned and went to stomp out Shepard’s smoke, shoving Finch out of the way in the process. Finch stumbled backward, narrowly missing a passerby as she hurried past on her way to more important places.

 “You know Aria isn’t in the best mood since you went and got beat up last week. You might not wanna see her,” Finch called after them as they approached the double doors to Afterlife.

 Shepard turned around and quirked a brow. “Yeah? She’s pissed about what?”

 “I dunno—you getting beat up and the cops and shit. She’s getting antsy about the snitch.”

 “And how would you know about the snitch?” Wrex asked.

 Finch shrugged, eyes going a bit wide. “People talk ‘s all. You two have been so out of the loop the last few days, you probably didn’t even hear about the Blood Pack base getting raided, did you?”

 “We heard,” Wrex said. He threw open the door and shoved Shepard through, ignoring Shepard’s protests as his side was wrenched awkwardly.

 “Jesus, Wrex.”

 “Don’t be a baby.”

 They walked through the empty club slowly despite Wrex’s comment, Wrex matching Shepard’s pace. It hurt to move too fast, but the slow, easy gait he was taking helped to alleviate some of the pain in his side.

 A part of Shepard knew he shouldn’t be out and about just yet. His side was far from healed and his bruises had only just turned a sickening yellow and blue. He still looked weak—still was weak—and if the wrong person saw him…

 Shepard would never admit it, but he was glad to have Wrex at his side.

 But he was going stir crazy inside his apartment. Kaidan hadn’t been able to come over the last few days, too busy with school work and citing an ‘appointment’ as reason enough to stay home. Shepard didn’t blame him. Short of watching the TV and shooting the shit, they didn’t have a lot to do together, Kaidan unable to go for walks with him in the Eastside, and Shepard unable to suck a dick let alone take one up the ass.

 And so he convinced Wrex to walk with him to see Aria, desperate to go outside and do something—even if it was just to listen to one of Aria’s grandiose speeches.

 Plus, Shepard would never admit it, but he needed her reassurance. Kaidan’s speech had left him shaken—unsure of where he stood with her.

 “Did Blood Pack’s base actually get raided?” he asked, disliking the fact that Finch already knew more than he did. 

_I’ve only been gone for ten days…_

 “Not their main one, no. Police just raided one of their homes out in the suburbs. Got a bunch of fentanyl but that’s about it. No guns.”

 “The police should have just asked me. I think I’ve got the serial number of one of their guns imprinted on my jaw,” Shepard joked.

 Wrex chuckled. “They pistol whip you?”

 “So Jack tells me.”

 “Lucky you didn’t get a broken jaw like Bray did,” Wrex said as he followed Shepard up the narrow steps to Aria’s office.

 Shepard breathed evenly through his nose, biting back the pain as he took each step carefully. He tried not to get frustrated with his slow pace and instead concentrated on how each step took him closer to Aria’s leather couch.

 “Fentanyl? Damn… heavy shit.”

 “Aria’s pissed about it.”

 “How come?”

 “Said she has standards.”

_Aria doesn’t want her client base dying on her after only one hit._

 Stopping on the landing, Shepard knocked twice before throwing open the door upon hearing an impatient ‘what’ from the other side. Aria was sitting behind her desk, stacks of papers in front of her and multiple empty coffee cups in the trash next to her desk.

 She looked up from her papers, the slight quirk of her brow the only indication she saw him before she went back to her work.

 Shepard couldn’t help but think what Kaidan had said last week.

_‘Your boss doesn’t give a shit about you, John.’_

 “I see you’re up and about,” Aria mumbled as she waved her hand at the couch.

 Shepard shrugged off his personal annoyance and sat down as indicated, noting that Wrex continued to lurk in the stairwell.

 “Couldn’t stand being in my apartment anymore,” Shepard said, grunting as he eased into the plush cushions with relief.

 “It’s good to see you standing,” she said idly.

 Shepard waited as she scribbled away at something, knowing if he pressed the conversation before she was ready he was liable to get kicked out.

 Finally she put her pen down and turned to look at him. Shepard was getting used to the critical inspections and the lingering gaze on his face, Aria’s once-over making him feel only marginally uncomfortable.

 “You look better than I had expected you would. You were in rough shape at the hospital,” she said.

 “Yeah well… guess my body knows the routine by now. Get beat up enough and I guess shit just sorts itself out faster.”

 She stood and walked around her desk, heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. Stopping at the corner, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the edge.

 “You were in bad shape, Shepard. Enough to give even me pause,” she said. Shepard couldn’t tell if the concern in her voice was for her profits, or for him. “With Bray out of the picture for the foreseeable future, I was worried I was going to lose another one of my warriors.”

 Profit. It was always profit.

 “War’s just getting started—I’m not tapping out now,” he said.

 She snorted. “You’re speaking like you haven’t already.”

 Shepard felt a chill creep across his spine, Aria’s cold stare drilling into his very core. But he didn’t look away—didn’t change his expression. Couldn’t. Not when she had him pegged like this. If he looked away she’d devour him whole.

 “What do you mean?”

 She rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the desk. Sitting down on the couch next to Shepard, she linked her fingers together on her stomach and stared dead ahead.

 “You’ve been acting differently these last few months. At first I thought maybe you were just going through a phase—but then a little bird told me about your visits outside of the Eastside. It’s that boy you’ve been seeing. He’s gotten into your head, Shepard. He’s making you think there’s a life outside of the Eastside—like you’ve got a future. But you forget one thing,” she turned to look at Shepard. Shepard avoided her gaze, unable to meet it. “You made a deal with me, and so long as you’re breathing you’re _mine_.”

 She stood and walked to the window overlooking the floor to Afterlife. She didn’t say anything for some time, leaving Shepard with his own thoughts.

_‘Your boss doesn’t give a shit about you, John. She cares about results and profits, and the only reason you’re still around is because you’re useful to her. She’s a criminal, John, and you’re just another one of her victims.’_

_If she knows about Kaidan—if she finds out about his father…_

 Shepard wanted to throw up.

 “I spoke to a few of my contacts within the police, and they said there was an incident a week ago,” Aria continued—as if she hadn’t just pulled the rug out from under him. “There were reports of a young man, badly beaten by four suspects—two of whom were identified as known gang members. I’m assuming that Blood Pack attacked you just like they attacked Bray.”

 “Seems likely,” he mumbled.

 Shepard tried to picture the attack once again, but came up with nothing. He couldn’t remember a single goddamn thing. For all he knew it could have been a mugging gone wrong.

 He still hadn’t found his phone.

 Aria turned back around, shoulders pulled back and arms hanging confidently at her side. “I’m planning on making a move soon—a big one. With Blood Pack having attacked both you and Bray, I find myself having to be a bit more… heavy handed in my dealings.”

 “What… what are you going to do?” he asked, finding his voice was weaker than he wanted it to be.

 “That’s not important. Just stay inside for another day or two, and if the police come around—“

 “Pretend I’m mute and deaf—got it.”

 She smirked then.

 Shepard couldn’t return it.

 Standing, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, trying not to wince as he brushed a bruise in the process. Just as he was at the door, however, Aria’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

 “Remember the first rule of the Eastside, Shepard.”

_Don’t fuck with Aria._

XX

Shepard stood out on the street in the early morning, rain soaking through his boots and dripping down the collar of his shirt. Wrex was next to him, his cheap Tim Horton’s coffee steaming in his hand, water dropping off his nose and onto the plastic lid. Neither said anything as they watched the police draw a line across the street with their yellow tape, separating the crowd of onlookers from the body that lay in the middle of the road.

 “Did he jump?” someone asked.

 “I don’t know—all I heard was the thump.”

 “More like a splat.”

 Shepard tilted his head to the side, noting how there was no blood coming out of Kureck’s head. The only red was the bandana on his wrist peeking out over the edge of his jacket.

 “He died before the fall,” he said.

 Wrex nodded. “Yep.”

 Kureck broke the one rule of the Eastside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah. Aria went there. Things have gone from bad to worse...
> 
> Thanks to Annaraven for the wonderful beta work.
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading/reviewing/enjoying the story! You're all amazing and keep me going!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Depictions of sexual situations and police brutality 
> 
> Kaidan's dad finds out about Shepard, and Kaidan finds out about a little thing called 'Reality'

 “Honestly Kaidan—it’s just stress.”

 Kaidan fiddled with the tissue paper on the doctor’s table, feeling the crisp paper crinkle under his fingertips. His doctor—Chakwas—was typing something into the computer, her sidelong glances telling him she wasn’t entirely impressed with his lack of logic.

 He wasn’t entirely impressed with himself, either. But after weeks of increased migraines and headaches he had to know if there was even the slightest possibility that the cancer had come back—even if it was as far-fetched as he initially thought.

 “Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, my last exams could have missed something.”

 Chakwas sighed and turned her chair away from the computer. She reached out and took Kaidan’s hand in her own, Kaidan noting there were more wrinkles across the tops of her hand than he’d remembered. She’d been his doctor for years.

 It would be a blow when she finally retired.

 “Trust me when I say both that your old surgeon and myself triple checked the results ourselves. Other than a slight increase in blood pressure, you’re as healthy as an ox. And you _know_ as well as I do that tumors take months—even years—to manifest themselves. You’re _fine_.”

 She took her hand back, a wry smile on her lips.

 Kaidan nodded, feeling a little bit foolish. It was just stress—just gigantic amounts of stress brought on by Doctorate school, a partner prone to almost dying, lying to his parents, and failing to get a good sleep for the last two months because of his stupid, goddamn migraines.

 Completely mundane and manageable.

 “In order to make you feel a bit better, I’m sending you in for a CAT-scan as well as some routine blood work,” Chakwas said as she returned to her computer. “In the meantime, I suggest you take a day or two to collect yourself, relax a little, and realize that you’ve more control over those migraines than you think you do. Can you do that for me?”

 “Y-yeah, for sure,” he said.

_Easier said than done._

She turned back around. “Is there anything going on in your life that’s been causing an increase in stress?”

 Kaidan shrugged. “You’re my doc, Chakwas—not my shrink.”

 “Mental health is just as important as physical, Kaidan.” She sighed and went back to her screen, typing away on a system Kaidan probably knew as well as she did by now. “If you won’t tell me about what’s been eating away at you, I suggest you tell someone else. Someone you trust. It does you no good to keep bottling it up. That’s what English people do—and you’ve seen what it does to our teeth.”

 Kaidan chuckled and rose when she did. He followed her out of the examination room and into the back, noting the plethora of papers coming out of the printer. She grabbed them and began signing her name on all of them, passing them single file to Kaidan in turn.

 CAT-scan, blood work, urine work, prescription refills and—

 “A massage therapist referral?”

 “Sometimes a little bit of deep tissue massage work can work wonders,” Chakwas said. “You might want to look into going away for a little while as well. Perhaps a small vacation?”

 “Can’t. University is kicking my ass right now.”

_Along with everything else in my life._

 “Well, do what you can. I highly recommend that massage. It will relax your muscles and do wonders for all that stress you’re carrying around on your shoulders. In the meantime—do try and keep relaxed best you can. You’ll see that all this worry about cancer was for nothing. You’re going to be fine, Kaidan.”

 He took a piece of her reassuring smile and bottled it up for later. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

XX

 Kaidan watched the police tap bounce up and down as a small child tugged at the roped off end next to the lamppost. Police were milling about the crime scene, taking up the entirety of the road with their cars and trucks. Kaidan watched as two officers spoke over the yellow evidence marking tents, the numbers one through ten visible in just a small area next to their feet.

 A flash of something up above caught Kaidan’s eye, and he noted that there were police on the roof of an old building taking photographs of something up there.

 “Any idea what happened?” Kaidan asked the woman with the child.

 She shrugged as she bent down to wrestle her kid back into the stroller. “No idea.”

 Kaidan gripped the strap of his laptop bag and hefted it further up onto his shoulder. Turning, he continued to his destination, ignoring the urge to look it up on his news app. He needed to de-stress, not get caught up in more stressful and, ultimately, uncontrollable news.

 He had enough people to worry about. Random Vancouverites didn’t have to be a part of that.

 When he got to Shepard’s building he noted that Wrex wasn’t present in front—not like he’d been for the past two weeks. Instead the front steps were crowded with the usual people, some smoking and others staring blankly off in the distance as they worked through their high.

_Go right inside, or climb the ladder like a fool again?_

 Kaidan decided to try his luck and went for the main entrance, sick and tired of tempting the tetanus fates by climbing a rusted metal ladder. People scooted off to the side but made very little room for Kaidan otherwise, forcing him to pick his way through the group, scowls on a few faces as they caught sight of his clothes.

 Reaching Shepard’s apartment, he knocked twice before rummaging around in his bag in search of the gift he’d picked up on his way over. There was noise from the other side, and Kaidan stepped back just as the door swung open, Shepard hunched over with his hand behind his back, reaching for a knife he thought Kaidan didn’t know he kept there.

 “Hey,” Shepard said, dropping his hand immediately. He straightened, a slight wheeze slipping past despite his efforts to hide it.

 Kaidan knew the ribs weren’t healed. Three weeks was the minimum it took to feel ‘normal’ again, and longer still before the cracks were mended and the sore muscles placated. Still, Shepard tried to hide the injury like an animal sought to hide its weakness in an ever growing hostile environment.

 “Hey,” he said, holding onto the box awkwardly between them. “Can I come in?”

 Shepard blinked a few times before nodding. Stepping out of the way, he let Kaidan pass before the door was slammed shut, the sounds of multiple locks clicking into place following.

 “You okay?” Kaidan asked. Shepard seemed a bit… weird. Weirder than usual, that was. He kept looking around like he was going to get jumped at any moment, and he was hunched over like he was ready to take a hit and maybe land one himself.

 If Kaidan didn’t know Shepard, he’d have thought he was high.

 “I’m fine,” he said. He sighed and rolled his eyes when Kaidan didn’t respond, and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling him in closer. “Shit’s been a bit weird around here last few days. I’m just… on edge. That’s all.”

 Kaidan accepted the slow kiss, enjoying the brief connection.

 But it wasn’t enough of a distraction.

 “This about that crime scene?” he asked when they broke apart.

 Shepard pulled a face. “You saw that?”

 “Kind of hard to miss.”

 Shepard wandered over to the windows in the living room and leaned against the chipped frame. He winced from the pressure, but readjusted until his face relaxed and a slow, easy exhale filled the silence of the room.

 “Some guy got killed.”

 Kaidan’s throat tightened and he could feel the familiar pressure of a migraine pushing against his barely maintained barriers.

 “Did you know him?”

 “Sort of…” Shepard scratched the corner of his jaw, and Kaidan caught sight of an unhealed bruise on the back of his skull as he stretched. Yellow and green, it blossomed out like a decomposing flower. “He was with Blood Pack—some higher up. We got in a few fights over the years…”

 Kaidan could tell there was something Shepard wasn’t telling him—either to protect him or something else, he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, either.

 But the knowledge that Shepard’s fucked up gang war now had a body count sat badly in his gut. It spread out like thorns, snagging his stomach and guts and twisting until all he could picture was what that bruise on Shepard’s skull could have been.

 Shepard could have been that first causality.

 It could have been Shepard’s crime scene Kaidan just walked past.

 “Do you… I mean… do you know who did it?”

 Shepard shook his head.

 Kaidan didn’t believe him.

 He knew he should, but he couldn’t.

 “My boss… she said some shit but…” Shepard pushed away from the wall and approached Kaidan, brushing his hand over his face. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s good to see a sane face.”

 Kaidan snorted. “Yeah, completely sane over here.”

 Taking off his bag, he dropped it beside the kitchen counter before passing Shepard the wrapped box.

_Just move past what you just heard. Just… forget about it. Focus on Shepard—not everything else._

 “What’s this?” Shepard asked, taking the box with a quirked brow.

 “Belated birthday gift,” he replied.

 “I told you not to get me anything for my birthday.”

 “It’s not a birthday gift; it’s a belated birthday gift. Completely different things.”

 Shepard rolled his eyes but smiled all the same. Gripping the paper, he ripped it off in one go, tossing the wrapping onto the counter behind Kaidan. Taking the top off the box, he pulled out the smartphone.

 “I heard your other one got kinda… crushed,” Kaidan explained. “This is the newest smartphone. The sixteen year old clerk who sold it to me said it’s the best on the market.”

 “Thanks, K,” Shepard mumbled. He put the phone back into the box carefully before placing it next to the paper on the counter. He didn’t pull back from Kaidan, however, but wrapped his arms around Kaidan’s waist to pull him in.

 Kaidan accepted the kiss with enthusiasm. Each swipe of their lips eased away the tension in his gut and in the back of his skull, and he kept the kiss going, swallowing up Shepard’s grunt of amusement. When they broke Shepard’s cheeks had a pink flush to them and his breathing—although laboured—sounded healthy.

 “Someone’s eager,” Shepard mumbled, nibbling on Kaidan’s bottom lip teasingly.

 “It has been two weeks,” Kaidan said. “My hand can only go so far.”

 Shepard snorted and kissed Kaidan again. “It’s a very talented hand.”

 “So I’ve been told.” He squeezed Shepard’s ass playfully, earning himself a surprised grunt followed by an uncomfortable hitching of breath.

 Kaidan pulled back then, giving Shepard space as he cupped his side and breathed slowly through his nose, jaw clenched tight. Kaidan watched with furrowed brows, hating how even simple things like _hugging_ hurt Shepard.

 “I’m sorry,” Kaidan said.

 “Don’t be—it was worth it.” Shepard smiled tightly and straightened up. “If you’ve got time, I’d be willing to try out my stamina…”

  _Chakwas told me to find some stress relief…_

 “Think your ribs will accommodate a… sanity check?”

 Shepard took Kaidan’s hand and led him to his bedroom, fingertips tickling the underside of his wrist as they walked. Shutting the door, Shepard shrugged off his hoodie and turned around, hands reaching for Kaidan’s belt.

 “Wait,” Kaidan said, grabbing Shepard’s wrists. Shepard quirked a brow, bottom lip stuck out in an adorable pout—something that would earn himself a hard punch to the arm if he told Shepard it was a) adorable and b) a pout.

 “What?”

 “Let me,” he said. Closing the gap between them he kissed Shepard passionately, letting Shepard control the pressure as he began to undo his belt and jean buttons. Shepard’s fingers strayed upward and tangled in Kaidan’s hair, his breathing even and steady—for now.

 He just had to keep it that way. No small task during sex.

 Nudging Shepard back but keeping the kiss going, he managed to get Shepard down on the bed with minimal wincing, straddling his hips and hovering above him. Shepard’s hands wandered, his kisses fierce, and the way he held on to Kaidan told him he needed this—the physical and grounding connection that only Kaidan could provide.

 The last few weeks had been painful. The emotional and physical distance had hurt them both, Shepard unable and unwilling to make a crack in his walls so that Kaidan could come in. He was trying to protect Kaidan—or so he told him time and time again—but it was getting harder for Kaidan to turn the other way.

 Shepard could have died—could still die. The streets had been coated with blood and a man had _died_.

 And yet Kaidan fell into Shepard’s orbit all the same. Sought him out for his sanity checks, desperate to be with him despite the heavy cost he knew he’d have to pay sooner or later. This love wasn’t easy, but when Kaidan was like this—lips against Shepard’s, breath in tandem with him, their needs and desires mixed in as one—Kaidan knew it was all worth it. The anxiety and fear, the desperation to pull Shepard from the dark mess he’d tangled himself in, it was all fucking worth it.

 Slipping off of Shepard’s lap, Kaidan knelt down on the floor and worked Shepard’s jeans and underpants off, noting that Shepard was wearing a jock strap.

 “Expecting me?” he asked, smirking as he kissed the tip of his member through the red cotton.

 Shepard huffed as he ran his hand through Kaidan’s hair, gripping the back of his head gently. “They’re comfortable and practical.”

 “And come with easy access.”

 Shepard grinned. “Just a perk.”

 Shepard collapsed back onto the bed as Kaidan pulled his cock out. Stretching his torso out, he let out a long sigh. Kaidan watched him for a moment to make sure he was comfortable before ducking his head and taking Shepard into his mouth. Shepard was hot and heavy on his tongue, and entirely responsive to his ministrations, twitching and growing in girth as Kaidan sucked the tip and rubbed the head against the inside of his cheek.

 Shepard’s hand remained on Kaidan’s head, cupping the back of his neck as he began to bob up and down, taking more of him in with each swipe. Closing his eyes, Kaidan got lost in the sensations around him—how Shepard tasted and felt, and the steady hitching of breath but without the tell-tale signs of pain. Kaidan continued to work him over, taking his time and enjoying it, allowing himself to forget everything else in his life and concentrate on Shepard.

Cupping Shepard’s balls, Kaidan tugged them gently, rolling them in the palm of his hand. Shepard’s legs spread further and he thrust up into Kaidan’s swollen lips and hungry mouth. His other hand had come to rest on Kaidan’s shoulder, massaging the tense muscles.

_Better than the massage therapist referral, that’s for sure._

 “Kaidan…”

 Kaidan shivered, Shepard’s deep, needy voice calling his name creating goosebumps that settled in his groin. Humming slightly, he lifted his head and nuzzled the point where hip met groin.

 “Yeah?”

 “I fucking love you.”

 He chuckled and sucked the junction, creating a mark that only Shepard and he could see.

 There was a loud bang just outside the room.

 Kaidan jerked back just as Shepard sat up and grabbed for a knife he didn’t have on him. Kaidan pressed his hand against his chest, trying to stop his heart from breaking free. It took him a second to realize the noise had come from the hallway just outside the apartment, and not outside.

 Like a gunshot would.

“What was that?”

 Before Shepard could answer the noise started up again. It was a series of short, forceful bangs against the apartment door, followed by a booming voice.

 “Police—open up!”

 “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Shepard said, already trying to wrangle his erection back into his pants.

 Kaidan stood up and brushed his thumb over his bottom lip, cleaning off the vestiges of what had been building up to be a very good blowjob.

 “They here about—“

 “Probably,” Shepard said as he passed, his opened belt buckle jingling.

 Kaidan followed at a distance, unsure of whether he wanted to be seen by the cops in Shepard’s apartment. His father had been in the force long enough, and gloated about Kaidan’s successes long enough, that he was pretty sure most cops would be able to pick him out of a line-up. If he was caught here with a known criminal the questions would be… awkward.

 Shepard threw open the door and held onto the handle tight, his back to Kaidan. Kaidan stayed near Shepard’s bedroom, noting the two male cops standing with their chests puffed out and their feet spread wide apart.

 Kaidan didn’t recognize them, and they looked too young to run in his father’s work circle.

 He stepped forward and hovered behind Shepard.

 “Are you John Shepard?” the brunette officer asked.

 “Yeah? What do you want?” Shepard asked in return.

 Kaidan couldn’t see his face but he could see the way his muscles flexed at the bottom of his skull. He was grinding his jaw—flexing it back and forth in an obvious show of aggression. Kaidan wanted to tell him to calm down and just listen, but remained silent.

 He wasn’t Shepard. He hadn’t been harassed by law enforcement his entire life. It was perfectly reasonable he would be on edge…

 “We don’t know if you’re aware, but there was a murder that took place a couple of blocks from your apartment,” the red-headed one with a plethora of freckles said.

 “Kind of hard not to know what with you guys closing the street down for the entire day. Fucks up traffic, you see.”

 The brunette sighed and tugged at his belt.

 “We were wondering if you’d come down to the precinct with us. We just want to ask you a few questions,” the redhead asked, interrupting whatever the brunette was going to say.

 Shepard didn’t answer for a second, but it was enough to make Kaidan think maybe he’d say no—slam the door in the faces of the cops and get himself in a shit load of trouble. It seemed entirely within his character. As much as Kaidan liked to deny it to his friends, Shepard wasn’t one for critical thinking—particularly when it came to the police.

 But then he nodded and stepped back, toeing his boots on. He shot Kaidan an apologetic look.

 “You should probably go home,” Shepard said, still holding the door open. “I have no idea when they’ll let me go.”

 “Call me when you’re out, yeah?”

 Shepard nodded and turned back to the police, his expression dropping immediately.

 “Let’s go—”

 The brunette grabbed Shepard’s arm and yanked him out through the door. Kaidan saw the flash of pain on his face and heard the hitching of his breath before he pulled his arm out of the police officer’s grasp, accidentally knocking the other cop in the process.

 “I said I’d –” Shepard began, but was quickly cut off.

 The brunette officer grabbed at Shepard again, and before Kaidan could even process what was happening Shepard was thrown to the ground and held there, a loud cry of pain breaking through the heavy thud of Shepard’s body as he hit the floor.

 Kaidan had heard about police brutality. He’d seen the videos from the States and heard about the Starlight Tours in Saskatchewan. He knew it happened and he believed it needed to be addressed, but he’d never _seen_ it. He’d never witnessed the abuse and therefore pretended it didn’t exist—not in his world, and not with his father’s men.

 He watched as Shepard lay on the ground, an officer’s knee digging into his back, gasping for breath and face contorting in pain, and he knew then that he couldn’t let this happen.

 This wasn’t an act of protecting and serving the innocent. This wasn’t _right_.

 Surging forward he grabbed the brunette officer and pulled him off of Shepard.

 “What the hell do you think you’re doing? He’s recovering from broken ribs!” he yelled, stepping in between Shepard and the officer.

 “Cuff Shepard, Keeler,” the officer said before he turned his attention to Kaidan. There was an angry red flush to his cheeks, and Kaidan could see the barely contained rage in his eyes. He stood his ground. “You really want to get arrested for assaulting a police officer and interfering in an arrest, kid?”

_I’m older than you, you piece of—_

 “And do you want to get charged for unlawful arrest and the assault of a suspect under police custody?” Kaidan asked. He felt like punching the guy in the face—right in the nose. Break it and make him feel a fraction of what Shepard was feeling.

 There was a low, pained moan from behind Kaidan, and creaky breaths that gurgled on the exhale.

 Kaidan whirled around to see Shepard with his face pressed into the dirty carpet, his arms wrenched behind his back as the cuffs were tightened. He wasn’t moving much—wasn’t making a fuss. He was only… crying.

_You made him cry, you sick fucks._

 “At least let him stand up before you cuff—“

 Kaidan only took a step to help Shepard up when he was pulled by the shoulder and slammed chest first into the wall. He only had a second to figure out the ringing in his head was from bouncing off the wall before his arms were pulled back and his wrists pushed together. The sound of the metal cuffs rang out in his head, puncturing the slow, heavy wheezes from Shepard as he was dragged up and pushed against the wall next to Kaidan.

 “Just keep breathing, John,” Kaidan said through his own panic.

 He was being arrested and Shepard was in pain—so much pain he couldn’t even speak. Kaidan was afraid and angry, and all he wanted to do was to make sure Shepard was okay. They could lock him up and throw away the key for all he cared in that moment—he just needed for Shepard to stop crying.

 “C-can you at least cuff his wrists in front of him?” Kaidan asked over his shoulder, wincing as the cuffs were tightened.

 “You’re under no position to ask us anything,” the brunette said, his coffee coated breath slipping across Kaidan’s cheek.

 “C’mon, Jenkins. The guy’s not a threat.”

 Kaidan kept his eyes on Shepard, trying to get him to lock eyes with him. Shepard kept his head down, forehead pressed against the wall, a teardrop hanging off his nose. He wasn’t fighting; wasn’t arguing. He’d just given up.

 That scared Kaidan.

 “John… John, look at me, eh?”

 Shepard didn’t.

 But Keeler did. He un-cuffed Shepard then turned him around and cuffed his wrists from the front. Shepard sagged against the wall, his breathing evening out marginally now that his chest wasn’t under so much stress.

 Kaidan wasn’t afforded the same courtesy. He was pulled back from the wall with rough hands and shoved down the hallway first. Stumbling over his own feet, he almost fell were it not for Jenkin’s grabbing him and pushing him forward.

 It was only when he was sitting in the back of the car, hands shoved into the abused leather seat of the cruiser with Shepard trembling beside him from the pain, that Kaidan realized he’d just been royally fucked over by the system.

 “T-told you I’d b-be a bad influence,” Shepard mumbled as the car pulled away from the curb and headed off to the precinct.

XX

 Jenkins and Keeler realized their mistake once they ran Kaidan’s ID through the system, but by then they were already committed.

 Kaidan sat in the back of the police cruiser listening to Shepard’s pained breathing, watching the furrow of his brow and the tension in his lips, and feeling his heated skin as he pressed their shoulders together. Shepard didn’t say much beyond his first remark and simply sat without even bothering to hide the agony he was in.

 They took Shepard away almost as soon as they arrived. Kaidan watched him go through a back door in the underground garage, the window on the door marred with steel wiring to keep it from cracking under impact. Kaidan didn’t get more than a ‘I love you’ out before Keeler pulled him in the opposite direction, his hold gentle and courteous and not at all like the one Jenkins had on Shepard.

 His handcuffs were taken off on the elevator ride up to the middle floor. Kaidan’s wrists were already pink and sore and exposed, but he didn’t care about that. He just followed Keeler through the maze of cubicles and office space he’d traversed more times than he could count, before sitting down outside a familiar office.

 Leaning forward, Kaidan ducked his head and breathed.

_In and out… in and out… in and out…_

 The rage and frustration was still bubbling just below the surface but Kaidan swallowed it, the emotion turning into pain as it unfurled across his brow and down his spine. Shepard needed medical attention—or at least some heavy pain medication—and Kaidan was certain he wasn’t going to receive it. Instead he was probably sitting in some cold examination room, chained to a desk with his face covered in dried tears, holding back the vomit.

 And why?

 Because some rookie cop _thought_ he was dangerous.

 “So _stupid_ ,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

 “Kaidan.”

 Kaidan looked up from the carpeted floor and locked eyes with his father.

 He didn’t know what to say; couldn’t think of anything beyond begging and explaining.

_Your men are out of control; you have no right to treat people like that; he had broken ribs and they knew that but didn’t stop._

_You can’t just abuse people like that because you have a badge over your breast._

_Are these the types of men you wanted me to become?_

“Come into my office,” his father said, nodding his head toward the door.

 Kaidan stood and did as instructed, unsure of what his father knew already. He couldn’t read his face. It was like he’d put on a mask; hid himself behind a barrier, acting like he was a police officer and Kaidan was a crime scene.

 And that was frightening.

 His father walked around to the other side of his desk and braced his hands on the top, crinkling the papers spread across the surface. His office had always been well maintained—everything in strict order despite the chaos of his workplace. A small plant Kaidan had bought him when he was a teenager was still growing in the corner on top of the file cabinets, with rows of family pictures cluttered all around it. On his desk sat a larger photo of the three of them—Kaidan, his father, and mother—back when Kaidan had first graduated with his Bachelors. It was in a place of pride, right next to his medal of bravery and a plastic toy horse he’d always had for some unknown reason.

 This was his father’s second home; a place he spent most of his days when away from his family, working long hours so that Kaidan could feel safe.

Kaidan had spent hours in here with him when he was a kid. He’d had his own little table where he kept his crayons, colouring books, toys, and a small radio he could use to tune in to the CBC so he could pretend to be an adult. His father would bring him snacks from the breakroom, usually fruit and juice but very occasionally a chocolate glazed doughnut, and once in a blue moon he’d take Kaidan home in the cruiser, flashing the lights and blasting the siren when they arrived in order to ‘tease’ his mother.

 But his little play space had been long since cleaned up, and Kaidan figured the last time he’d been in his father’s office had been two, maybe three years ago.

 About the time he decided to get his Doctorate in the sciences, effectively closing off all possibility of joining the force.

 “You mind telling me what you were doing that got you dragged in here in the back of a police cruiser?” his father asked. He kept his gaze on the desk.

 Kaidan shoved his hands in his pockets, fingers curling around spare change and his car keys. “Couple of your men got aggressive with someone who wasn’t resisting arrest. The guy was injured and I… I couldn’t stand by and watch him get abused. So I stepped in, told the police to back off and… here I am.”

 His father sighed—deep and low and what felt like forever—before he looked up at him from his hunched over position.

 “And can you please explain why you were brought in next to John Shepard—a _known_ criminal?”

  _Of course he knows about Shepard. Of course he does._

 Kaidan felt a right fucking fool then. His father had been fighting gangs longer than Shepard had been alive. His father knew Omega, knew Aria, and definitely knew about her knights. Shepard was top of the list—one of the most trusted supporters of Aria. He was sent on job after job, and Kaidan was certain his father had detained him on more than one occasion.

 And the fact that Kaidan thought he could get Shepard into his parents’ house with no trouble at all…

 “I went by his apartment to drop off a gift,” he said, leaving out the most important detail. Either through fear or shame, he wasn’t quite sure.

 “A gift… you went to a known criminal’s house to give him a gift.”

 “Y-yeah.”

 “Kaidan, what the _hell_ is going on?” his father asked, voice rising. His cheeks had gone pink, barely contained frustration pressing against his calm exterior.

 Kaidan felt like a small child being reprimanded for breaking the back porch window playing baseball. His throat was tight and he couldn’t stop fiddling with the change in his pocket. He found all his gravitas and bravado had been swept away as soon as his father raised his voice.

 But he had to tell the truth. His father needed to know.

 “John and I—I mean Shepard and I… have been seeing each other…” He cleared his throat and straightened somewhat, locking eyes with his father. “Shepard and I are dating. We have been for some time now...”

 It felt good to get it all out. The ball was in his father’s court and all Kaidan could do now was wait for the reaction. A part of him held out hope for a good one, but the longer his father stayed silent and just stared at him, the less hope he could maintain.

 Suddenly, after what felt like ages, his father moved. Pushing off of the desk he strode past Kaidan, throwing open the door before slamming it shut with such force one of his framed certificates jumped off the wall and fell onto the couch behind Kaidan.

 Kaidan didn’t move from his place. He wasn’t sure if his father was coming back, but he knew if he left now then nothing would be resolved. His father would refuse to speak to him and Kaidan would be shut out. He was a stubborn old fool when he wanted to be—Kaidan knew that—and so he couldn’t leave. They needed to resolve this; Kaidan needed to prove his commitment to Shepard and explain why he’d fallen in love.

 If such a thing was even possible.

 He owed Shepard that much.

 He stood and stared at the toy horse for some time, hands still shoved in his pockets, not daring to look at the clock. If he moved he’d lose his nerve.

 Finally there were footsteps near the door and his father came back into the room with a heavy white evidence box in his grasp. Shutting the door with his foot, he walked back around the desk and dropped the box with a heavy thud.

 Kaidan caught sight of Shepard’s name on the side before the lid was thrown open to reveal a stack of files. His father rummaged through and grabbed one near the middle before he flipped it open and dumped the contents out on the table. They were evidence photographs of a young man in a hospital room, his body bloodied and bandaged as he lay on a bed. Each photograph was of the different wounds and bruises, cuts and breaks. Purples and reds, yellows and blues spread out across the man’s face and chest. His arm was in a cast and wires held his jaw in place. His eyes were so swollen he couldn’t open them, and Kaidan wasn’t completely sure he was even awake.

 Photograph after photograph of injuries were spread out across his father’s desk, each one in vivid detail.

 “This. This is what Shepard is capable of,” his father said. He tossed one final photo down in front of Kaidan.

 It was Shepard’s mugshot. Bagged, dead eyes looked out at the camera, bottom lip cut and a bruise blossoming across his jaw. He was skinnier than Kaidan had ever seen him; like an emaciated coyote, all skin and bones and desperation.

 This must have been the incident Shepard had told him about—when he’d beaten a rival gang member after he’d hit Jack. Shepard had said it was bad, but…

 Kaidan didn’t look away. He couldn’t look away. He took in each and every bruise in silence, ignoring his father’s rummaging in the overstuffed box. This was what Shepard was capable of… this was the evidence of what life on the streets had reduced Shepard to. What it had made him do.

 “This isn’t all he is,” Kaidan said. “He isn’t defined by what happened over five years ago—something he already did penance for.”

 His father threw out more files on to the desk. Surveillance photos of Shepard with other Omega members; further arrest reports; photographs of his own bruises and injuries—even one from a hit and run incident that had landed him in the hospital for a week. Page after page, photograph after photograph, was laid out before Kaidan; every single one of Shepard’s deeds exposed to him by his father in some vain attempt at what? Revealing to Kaidan what he already knew?

 “This is what he is, Kaidan,” his father said. “Not all of these are from five years ago or even a year ago. This is what he’s doing _right now_.”

 Kaidan nodded, gaze returning to Shepard’s mugshot as it sat underneath his arrest warrant.

 “Yeah—maybe to you. But I know the real Shepard. I know that this isn’t what he _wants_ to be.”

 “Goddamn it, Kaidan! He had a choice—he had a choice and he chose a life of this!” His father threw his hand out across the desk. “He chose violence and robbery, and drug trafficking. He chose to defy the law, to sell drugs, and beat men until they were almost dead. He’s a sack of shit, Kaidan—just like every other gang member out there. He _chose_ this.”

 Kaidan breathed hard through his nose and looked up at his father. His face was pale with fury, eyes wide and jaw clenched tight. His mustache quivered slightly, and Kaidan would have laughed had he not been so pissed.

 “Yeah… he made a choice but he didn’t have many options. A-and yeah, maybe his choice was the wrong one, but if you were in the same situation as him do you honestly think you’d have done anything different?” he asked, trying to keep his thoughts in check when they were all pushing at the gates, trying to get out. He had to make sense—he had to come up with a clear argument. He couldn’t let his emotions get away from him.

 “C’mon, Dad,” he continued, “you work with these people day in and day out. You know the cycle of abuse better than I do. No one chooses to be in a gang like this unless they’ve got nowhere else to go. You know this—don’t you?”

 “There is a difference between joining a gang, and becoming one of the highest ranking members of that gang,” his father said, voice low. “John Shepard is a known entity, Kaidan. He’s not just some grunt working on the corner along with all the other kids. He worked his way to the top beating men and selling drugs, and he has no moral qualms about it. If he did, he’d have left long ago.”

 “You know that it’s not that simple!” Kaidan cried out. The tone of his voice caught him off guard. He’d been trying desperately to keep his emotions contained—to approach his father with a cool, level head and a clear argument. And yet here he was, crying out like a frustrated child, yelling in the middle of the police precinct and in the process proving to his father that he was overly emotional.

 Swallowing down the ache, he continued, this time calmer than before but with more tremble.  “You’re not this black and white in thinking, Dad. You know that no one in their right mind would choose to live this existence if they had anywhere else to go.”

 “He made his choices, Kaidan, and there is no coming back from this.” He grabbed the photo of the beaten man and shoved it in front of Kaidan’s face. “He’s a brutalizer—a leech who feeds off of those around him. He’s a bully and a criminal, Kaidan. He is not the underdog you should be supporting!”

 Kaidan held back the anger rising up in his chest, instead choosing to breathe through his nose and look at his father over the edge of the picture. “So me beating Vyrnnus up was what? Different? How come I could come back from that and Shepard can’t?”

 “This isn’t about that—“

 “But it is!” Kaidan yelled. “How come I get a free pass w-when Shepard’s entire existence is s-summed by these—these photos? These photos that only tell me that he’s been _fucked_ over by the system so much he had no choice. H-how was Shepard supposed to get help when you’ve already made up your mind? How come I was worthy of help, but Shepard isn’t?”

 “You’re not like Shepard, Kaidan. You’re not like any of these people because you have—“

 “Money? A good upbringing? A father in the police force who can vouch for me?”

 “You have a conscience,” his father yelled. “You have morals! You have integrity. You knew what you did was wrong!”

 Kaidan shook his head and stepped back. “And Shepard doesn’t have that because he’s just some—some street punk, right? Some piece of shit on the street who’s only there to make your job more difficult, right?”

 “Why are you defending him, Kaidan? What has gotten into you? Are you rebelling?”

 “I’m twenty-seven fucking years old, Dad! I’m well past the point of—of petty rebellions,” he said, choking on the frustration.

 He thought his father would at least understand; that he wouldn’t be so blinded by his own bigotry and biases. This was the man who bought every precinct in the Greater Vancouver area cigars when Kaidan was born; who supported Kaidan when he said he wanted to date men as well as women; who supported him when he said he was going to go into medical school, and who supported him when he went to get his Doctorate, even though Kaidan knew he had wished for something else.

 His father who had unflinchingly defended him at every turn, was now turning his back on him all because he refused to see that the gang bangers he arrested were humans too—capable of mistakes and wrong choices, but also humility and humanity.

 “Then why?” his father said—pleaded almost. “Why are you defending this man?”

 “Because I love him, Dad! Because he’s the only person in this godforsaken city who knows the real me and doesn’t treat me like I’m some freak. Like I’m someone I’m not. I _love_ him.”

 In the movies, this would have been the point where his father calmed down. He’d realize his mistakes and understand his bigotry because his son—the person he claimed to be the most important person in his life—loved someone. Because in the movies, love trumped all.

 But this wasn’t the movies.

 “He’s a degenerate, Kaidan. He’s a piece of shit and you knew it. You knew it going into it—”

 “He’s not a degen—”

 “—and you introduced him to your mother! You let her shake the hand of a man you knew was a criminal with no thought of the danger you could have brought to her. You were going to bring him into my home, for Christ’s sakes. What the fuck were you thinking?”

 “He’s not a danger, Dad!”

 “He’s already gotten you arrested!”

 “That was because your men—”

 He stopped himself. It was pointless—a fruitless fucking endeavour. His father was too goddamn stubborn to see that Shepard wasn’t the textbook gang banger he thought he was. And he should have known it would go this way—he should have seen the signs. His father had tried to shove him in a box time and time again; tried to make him into his vision—this perfect son that would go on to continue his father’s legacy by joining up with the police, marrying his high school sweetheart, and enjoying the monotonous, privileged lifestyle he’d grown up with.

 Kaidan wasn’t like that. He knew it, his father knew it, but that didn’t stop his father from turning a blind eye to it all. Kaidan had thought that maybe— _maybe_ —he’d see things differently this time. He’d understand that his relationship with Shepard wasn’t defined by their stations in life; that he wasn’t doing this just to be contrary to his father. He thought that maybe this time his father would stop and listen and absorb.

 But he wasn’t. He didn’t see Kaidan as an equal—as an adult capable of making his own decisions and living through the consequences. He was a child that needed to be scolded and told to fall in line; a child who would always be in need of his father’s guidance.

 “If you’re not going to charge me with anything then I think I’m just going to… go,” he said. He sounded tired—weary even.

 His father was gripping one of the photos on the desk, the paper crinkling under his grasp. Kaidan kept his gaze steady, waiting to see if his father really was as Shepard said—a trussed up cop on a power-trip.

 “If you insist on seeing that man then I don’t want to see you in or around the rest of the family—including your mother. Are we clear?” he finally said.

 Kaidan rolled his eyes and held back the well of tears he could feel building up. “Giving me an ultimatum now? Nice, Dad… real political.”

 “I’m serious, son. If you insist—“

 “I don’t need to hear your threats twice.”

 And then he left. Threw the door open and walked out before he lost his nerve. If he didn’t leave now then he never would, and he’d be trapped in a cage under his father’s misguided attempts at preventing him from making mistakes and falling in love with the wrong guy.

 But he only made it as far as the elevator before he collapsed on a bench next to a trash bin. He’d just been disowned by his father, Shepard was locked up with broken ribs and who knew what else, and he’d been arrested—although not officially.

 So much for keeping relaxed.

 “Go home, Kaidan.”

 Kaidan looked up for a second time that day to lock eyes with a cop.

 Samara was standing a distance from him, coffee in her grasp and tight bun pulling her stern features back. But her eyes were soft—cold blue full of something Kaidan didn’t know what to call other than sympathy.

 “I can’t,” he said, brushing a hand over his face. He could hear his voice crack and wouldn’t allow it go any further than that. “Not until... not until I know Shepard’s alright.”

 She sighed and gripped her mug a little harder.

 “Can you go check on him?” Kaidan asked.

 She’d been his father’s partner for years—always been at his side through more things than Kaidan would ever know. She’d seen Kaidan grow up and become the man he knew he was. At least she could see him for that.

 “If I go and check on his state will you promise me you’ll go home?”

 Kaidan nodded, hope blossoming for the first time in what felt like decades.

 She turned and left him then, disappearing down a hallway with a trail of coffee steam following her. He closed his eyes and waited, listening to the click of keyboards and the ring of phones, the patter of feet on carpet and the low rumble of voices.

 Eventually she returned and Kaidan stood, eager to hear of news—anything about Shepard.

 “He’s in an interrogation room at the moment,” she said. “He’s sitting upright and speaking with an administrator. That is all I can say at the moment.”

 “But he looks alright, right? H-he’s fine, right?”

 “He’s fine. A little tired looking, but I see no trauma.”

_You wouldn’t. It’s not visible to anyone but me…_

 “Thank you, Samara.”

 “Go home, Kaidan.”

 He nodded and pressed the button to call the elevator.

 Home—easier said than done. Kaidan had no idea where home was anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thanks for sticking with me and this fic! Things are heavy right now, but there will be some small spots of light here and there that will hopefully keep your spirits up.
> 
> Thanks for reading, peaches!
> 
> Major thanks to Annaraven for all the wonderful work she does.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter!

 Shepard sat in the interrogation room with his wrist cuffed to the table, arm stuck out in front of him and fingers going numb as he leaned back best he could in the uncomfortable chair. Each breath felt like another kick to the gut, the sharp ache making him want to suck in rather than breathe out. The bruises that had finally healed were once again tender to the touch, and Shepard kept his free hand on his lap, trying not to move.

 He could feel the dried tears on his cheeks, each blink pulling his skin tight around the corners—an embarrassing reminder of the pain and humiliation.

 But none of that mattered to him. The pain, the fear, and the anger that he was feeling—it didn’t mean shit.

 It was Kaidan who mattered.

 Shepard knew that eventually Kaidan would get pulled down into his world and choke on the filth, the injustices, and the powerlessness of the Eastside. Kaidan had been playing with fire the entire time, and goddamn it, Shepard had let him. He’d been selfish and naïve; he’d started to believe Kaidan when he said that their relationship was worth it—that _he_ was worth it. Shepard had become complacent. He’d lost himself in Kaidan’s love and everything that entailed, and now Kaidan was paying the price.

 He had vomited at some point, and he could taste the sharp vileness of the bile in his throat.

 There was a clock on the wall above the door but Shepard didn’t look at it. He just sat in silence and stared at the ceiling, listening to the gentle rattle of his breathing as he waited for the cops to return.

 Eventually the door opened and Shepard heard the soft steps of a woman on the carpet followed by heavier ones that must have been a man’s. Sitting up a little straighter, he opened his eyes to see a dark redheaded man next to his partner, a short brunette, both wearing ill-fitted suits that looked like they hadn’t been ironed in days—potentially weeks.

 Homicide detectives. Had to be. No one pulled off the frazzled look quite like they did.

 When the male spoke a deep, rich Scottish accent filled the room.

 “I’m Detective Donnelly and this is my partner Detective Mills.”

 Mills dropped a stack of files on the desk while Donnelly pushed a glass of water and a few pills toward Shepard.

 Shepard knew the tricks the cops would pull—knew that Donnelly was trying to get cozy with him so he’d talk more freely. Give the kid some painkillers and show he’s on your side, then get him to rat out his entire family only to have his body show up floating in the Bay a week later.

 Normally Shepard would have ignored the pills, but his side hurt something fierce and he was itching for that relief like an addict needed their next hit. Grabbing the pills he swallowed them without the water, gaze downcast as he worked them down and tried his best to ignore the detectives.

 He knew he should have been more worried about the entire investigation. With the cops breathing down his neck Aria would be keeping a close eye on him. One misstep—one word to the wrong person—and Shepard would be fucked. But he couldn’t find it in him to care about that.

 “Where’s Kaidan?” he asked. His voice sounded rough and unsteady. Weak.

_Guess that’s what happens when you’re the victim of egomaniacal pigs._

Neither Donnelly nor Mills made any indication they’d heard him. Mills flipped open one of her many files and began pulling out photographs and laying them on the table. Shepard didn’t look at them.

 “Where’s Kaidan?” he repeated.

 “We understand that you knew Mr. Ku—”

 “I want to speak to Anderson.”

 Mills quirked her brow, lips pulling tight. Donnelly snorted and sat back in his chair.

 “You want to speak to Constable Anderson?” Donnelly asked. He was still smirking.

 “If you want me to look at your photos, then yeah.”

 “He’s not going to come and see some guy from—”Mills began, but Shepard cut her off.

 “Drop my name. He’ll come.”

 There was tense silence after that. Mills’ jaw was working back and forth as if she were chewing on Shepard’s words. Donnelly seemed intrigued, like he wanted to test out the truth behind Shepard’s words. Shepard just sat, breathing through the pain, desperate not to show just how uncomfortable he felt.

 It was Mills who stood first. Pushing her chair in, she left the files on the table and walked out of the room, Donnelly trailing behind.

 As soon as they’d left Shepard let out a rattled breath, wheezing as the muscles squeezed around his ribs. Leaning back he closed his eyes and tried to think about the warmth of Kaidan’s thighs around his waist, the taste of his lips, and the feel of his honey-rich laugh against his chest.

 Shepard waited long enough that the pain medication began to work. Blurring the lines between pain and discomfort, Shepard found it became easier to breath with each minute that flicked by on the clock, the sharp burning turning into a dull ache. He briefly considered drinking the water left on the table next to the photographs, but he didn’t want to risk looking at the pictures.

 This was his only leverage. They wanted information from him—they wanted him to see the photographs of a dead man he once knew—and he didn’t want the men behind the mirror to know he’d done his part of the bargain before they’d done theirs.

 He needed to know Kaidan was okay.

Finally he heard the click of the door latch and looked over to see Anderson coming in with two cups of coffee and a rolled up newspaper under his arm. He didn’t say anything, didn’t really look at Shepard, but simply placed one of the cups of coffee in front of Shepard before grabbing his handcuffed wrist and unlocking it.

 Shepard took his hand back and mumbled thanks, watching as Anderson walked back around the table and sat down where Mills had been before. Shepard took a sip of the coffee, noting that it was oddly sweet.

 He’d never have guessed Anderson was a sweet coffee fan.

 “You’re looking a bit rough,” Anderson said idly as he flipped through one of the files. He was putting on a relaxed air, but Shepard could tell it was just that—all air and no solids. He looked tired and worn, like someone had just wrung him out and left him to dry in the cold.

 Shepard could relate.

 “Yeah. Been a shit couple of weeks,” he said.

 He could have told Anderson about what Jenkins had done to him, but reporting police brutality was like asking for a kick in the dick for the rest of your life. Once a cop figured out who reported them they’d make sure they suffered—like it was the person’s fault they were power hungry, little-dicked fuckers who couldn’t stop punching people.

 Finch had reported an officer years ago when they were still too young to know better. The officer had been put on leave with pay during the investigation and dragged Finch into the precinct for years afterward. Every minor infraction like pissing against a garbage can or jaywalking was grounds to pull him in, and Finch began to develop a tick that Shepard was pretty sure he still had.

 Besides, Shepard had more pressing concerns.

 “Where’s Kaidan?”

 Anderson flipped over a piece of paper and continued to read through it, ignoring Shepard.

 He was getting fucking sick of being ignored.

 “Anderson—just tell me where the fuck Kaidan is.”

 It probably wasn’t the smartest move to demand something from a police officer—especially Anderson—but Shepard was getting desperate. He needed to know where Kaidan was before he did something drastic. He could feel the walls closing in on him again, guilt churning in his guts and knotting them up. He’d dragged Kaidan into this mess and he couldn’t get him back out.

 This was all his goddamn fault, and if Kaidan was hurt—

 “He’s back home. Or, I hope he’s back home,” Anderson finally said. He sat back in his chair with his coffee, sipping it slowly from the ceramic cup with ‘World’s Best Marksman’ written on the side. “You can order a man like that do something, but whether or not they’ll listen is another matter.”

 “He’s not in trouble?” Shepard asked, hope welling up.

 “As I understand it he and his father had a bit of a row—loud enough the whole floor heard them. But he’s fine. He was just caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 Shepard pushed away the comment about Kaidan’s father and instead focused on the fact that Kaidan was out. He was away from the precinct and back home—safely tucked away in his bed and away from this fucking mess.

 He let out a low sigh and slumped back in his chair, wincing as his ribs pulled again. He saw Anderson’s gaze flick from him to his side, but he said nothing of it.

_Small blessings._

 “You really care about Kaidan, don’t you?”

 Shepard shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. He’s my… dude.”

 Anderson smiled then—just a quick upturn of his lips—before he went back to the files spread out in front of him, expression serious.

 “This is dark business,” Anderson said, shaking his head. “I’ve got reports of muggings, an increase in fentanyl on the streets, and now this—a dead gang member.”

 Shepard stayed quiet and fiddled with his mug, rubbing his thumb against the handle. In truth he didn’t know what had happened, but that didn’t mean he knew _nothing_. Aria’s ominous message had been proof enough as far as he was concerned. It was Omega who had done it—killed Kureck and tossed his body off a building as a warning.

 He’d seen it before, back when he was just a kid. An Eclipse member had been tortured and killed in an abandoned building just outside the city. No one went looking for them for days before Aria had dropped a ‘hint’ to the police. Shepard still remembered the look of satisfaction on Aria’s cold, impassive face when she’d learned that another Eclipse member had been tried and found guilty for the murder.

_And you’re complicit in it all._

_What would Kaidan think of you now, eh?_

 “You know this guy?” Anderson asked.

 Shepard looked down at the photos. Kureck was lying on the pavement, eyes glassy and skin a pale, sickening white. At the corners of his lips Shepard could see a white film, and hands that had tried to stick him in the gut with a knife just a few months ago were scraped and covered in dried blood, a few fingernails ripped off.

 But it was unmistakably Kureck.

 Shepard knew he had to tread carefully. He couldn’t give away anything important—couldn’t implicate Omega or Aria in any way, even if the cops had their suspicions. If Aria found out that he’d led the police straight to her door she’d kill him—wouldn’t even put on a show, either. He’d be dead and buried and a forgotten name before he even had a chance to finish his last cigarette.

 But Anderson had done him good. Always had, really. He’d seen something in Shepard and protected him from the rest of the force. Without Anderson, Shepard would probably have been in jail rotting in a cell for the rest of his lucid days.

 He owed him.

 “That’s Kureck. He was with Blood Pack,” Shepard said.

 “Was that his first name or just some name he went by?”

 Shepard shrugged. “No clue. We didn’t talk a lot.”

 “But you knew him?”

 “We uh… we fought, occasionally,” he said. “Over stupid shit, mostly. I’d walk into a territory he thought belonged to him, he’d come into mine…”

 He shrugged again, embracing the pull of his muscles as a distraction from the itch creeping up his spine. He wanted to leave—wanted to find Kaidan. But he couldn’t. He was trapped in here like a fucking caged animal.

  _Goddamn, I fucking hate this city._

 “When was the last time you saw him?” Anderson asked. He was still sitting back, acting all casual as he held his mug still and steady, resting the edge on his stomach. Shepard realized this was the first time he’d seen him without a form-fitting uniform on. He had a bit of a gut.

 Shepard scratched the corner of his jaw and sipped his coffee, mulling it over.

 “Couple of months ago,” he decided. “I was walking someone back to my place and we got jumped by him.”

 “Jumped?”

 “He attacked me.”

 “Why?”

 “Why the hell should I know?”

 Anderson’s brows furrowed. “Shepard—is there something you’re not telling me?”

 “No, there isn’t. He was in a gang that hated my gang—that’s the only reason he jumped me.”

 “And Kaidan?”

 Shepard stopped then. He didn’t want Kaidan connected to this in any way. As far as Shepard was concerned, Kaidan had never met the guy. He could be thrown under the bus and blamed for the entire murder for all he cared, so long as Kaidan remained as far away from Kureck as possible.

 “Kaidan doesn’t know about any of this shit—I make sure of it. I was with a client. Someone who needed a fix and I didn’t have any on me.”

 Anderson hummed and sipped his coffee before sucking on his gums. “So you were last in contact with him a few months ago?”

 “Yeah. January or something. It was still cold.”

 “Sure you didn’t see him around at any time after that?”

 Shepard clenched his jaw and breathed hard through his nose, stopping short of pulling his ribs. “Yes. I’m positive.”

 It was the truth. He hadn’t seen the guy since then. Unless he was involved in the attack in the alleyway…

 No. Aria would have mentioned if someone like Kureck had jumped him. He wasn’t your average lackey—he had the potential to be dangerous. If Kureck had come after him he was lucky to have walked away from it with only a couple of broken ribs and a concussion.

 But maybe the police knew more about that night than he did. It was impossible for him to know. He felt like he was fumbling in the dark whenever he tried to remember the attack—like the memories were made of chalk and the rain had washed the images away, the colours and meanings still there but muted and meshed together.  

 Anderson looked at Shepard for a very long time. Shepard tried to hold his gaze but turned away from it after a short while, feeling oddly guilty despite it all. He was honestly doing his fucking best—wasn’t jerking Anderson around, wasn’t lying to him or telling half-truths.

 Well, the Kaidan part was a half-truth, but other than that…

 “We found fentanyl in his system,” Anderson said eventually. Shepard looked up from the table. “You know anything about that?”

 “That didn’t come from us,” Shepard said. “We don’t sell that shit. In fact, that’s Blood Pack’s deal.”

 “Really? There’s a lot of money to be made on the streets from it now—I’m surprised your boss wasn’t in on it.”

 “It kills too easily. A dead customer doesn’t bring in money.”

 Anderson didn’t indicate that Shepard’s bluntness made him uncomfortable. In fact, he seemed remarkably nonplused about it.

 Shepard kept forgetting he’d been dealing with people like him for longer than Shepard had been alive.

 There was a knock at the door.

 “Come in,” Anderson said.

 Mills opened the door and stepped in, Donnelly hanging out in the back.

 “We don’t mean to interrupt, but we’ve got some questions we’d like to ask him, sir,” Mills said.

 Anderson’s demeanour changed. He smiled and stood, waving off Mills’ apologies. “Sorry—Shepard and I were just doing some catching up. Isn’t that right, Shepard?”

 Shepard shrugged.

 “Thanks for the talk, Shepard,” Anderson said.

 “Thanks for telling me about Kaidan.”

 Anderson nodded. As he was leaving he stopped Mills and Donnelly, and Shepard watched as he leaned in and whispered something to them. He strained to hear but couldn’t, Anderson’s low voice lending itself to discretion.

 He was gone then, the door shutting behind him with a resounding thud. Mills and Donnelly took back their seats across from Shepard, Donnelly’s attention flicking from Shepard’s free wrist to the unlocked shackle on the table. Shepard sat up a little straighter and schooled his face.

 Anderson deserved his respect—he’d deal with any potential repercussions from what he’d said for Anderson. He wouldn’t for these two fucks—they didn’t have his trust or respect. Their investigation could hang for all he cared.

 “So—how did you know Kureck?” Donnelly asked.

 “We used to play table tennis together. We were going to make it to the world championships, but then he caught me fucking his brother and we’ve never been the same. Bad blood, you see.”

XX

 It was close to midnight when Shepard was dumped back out on to the streets. He’d told the detectives the bare minimum and seemed to convince them of his ignorance in the matter. Mills had finally lost her glower halfway through once Shepard had admitted he’d had altercations with Kureck in the past, but still peered across the table at him like she thought he was hiding something under his bruises.

 He could have been, he just didn’t remember. A call to the hospital with a record of his concussion proved this.

 And so he was released without an apology for shifting his broken ribs around.

 Shepard’s sides ached, his head was pounding, and his stomach was growling so loudly that he swore a few people on the streets could hear it. But he didn’t stop to catch his breath or pick up some food, so desperate to talk to Kaidan that all other concerns fell to the wayside.

 Taking the stairs up to his apartment, Shepard briefly wondered if the police had even bothered to close the door after they’d carried him to the precinct. Arriving to a shut and locked door, he could see light coming from beneath the crack that let in far too many cockroaches for Shepard’s liking, and knocked loudly.

 “It’s me—Shepard,” he called through the door, waiting for Jack’s heavy footsteps.

 They came eventually, followed by the click of locks. Throwing open the door, Jack stared hard at Shepard, a mixture of relief and ‘pissed off’ awash on her face.

 “Hey,” he said, slipping past her and going straight to his room. Grabbing the bottle of painkillers on his bedside table he dumped two out and swallowed them quickly, desperate for some relief.

 “Heard you got dragged in,” Jack said, leaning against the doorframe of his room.

 Shepard nodded and pulled out some clean clothes, hating how the sickening stench of corporation and old coffee sat on him.

 “They wanted to see me about Kureck,” he said, taking his shirt off carefully. His sides resisted the movement but he powered through it regardless of their screaming.

 “What did they ask?”

 Shepard put his fresh shirt on and turned to see Jack had moved further into his room and was resting against the desk.

 “Regular shit—how do I know him, when was the last time I saw him. Apparently he died from a fentanyl overdose,” he said.

 He ignored Jack’s presence and took off his jeans right in front of her, figuring she’d seen his dick enough times it wasn’t a total shocker. Putting on a fresh pair, he tossed the dirty ones into the corner next to the empty laundry basket.

 “I got a call a couple of hours ago when I was dropping some shit off downtown saying you’d been dragged in. Guess people have been keeping tabs on you,” Jack mumbled. She seemed annoyed—but not at Shepard.

 Shepard nodded. “Yeah… yeah, suspected as much.”

 “Aria doesn’t want you coming around Afterlife for a few days. Patriarch and Grizz also got pulled in so I guess they’ve got Omega as their top suspect or whatever.”

 “Did they come for you?” Shepard asked.

 Jack shook her head. Tossing her arms up above, she cracked her spine—a sudden pop-pop-pop—before dropping them back down at her sides. She looked tired; like she’d waited up for Shepard. He knew she’d never admit it if he asked, however.

 Shepard wanted to go and see Kaidan immediately—check up on him and make sure he was okay. Anderson’s mention of Kaidan’s fight with his father had been chewing on the back of Shepard’s mind since he’d been told of it, and he wanted to apologize or see if there was anything he could do.

 And a part of him wanted to see if Kaidan still wanted him coming around.

 But Jack’s demeanour gave him pause.

 “Are you okay?” he asked. He leaned against the desk next to her, watching as she tugged at a hangnail.

 She didn’t say anything for a while—just sat and tugged—until finally she turned to Shepard.

 “You’ve been scaring the shit out of me these last few months, Shepard. First you’re getting jumped, then you’re getting beaten half to fucking death, and now you’re getting dragged in for murder investigations. I just… I mean, it’s fucked. Like, everything going on right now with you and that Kaidan fucker, and the whole gang. You’re not being careful and sooner or later your own stupidity is going to get you killed, and then I won’t have a roommate who pays his share of the rent on time and doesn’t listen to shitty trash music.”

 Shepard knew Jack worried—he could see it in her eyes and the way she fidgeted and paced, never staying still for too long like her emotions would catch up to her if she did. But she never admitted those fears and worries; she never told Shepard that she was concerned he was going to get killed.

 It scared Shepard, in a way, to hear someone else in his world—someone as close to it as Jack was—to voice what he’d always had concerns about himself.

 This thing with Kaidan and Blood Pack and Omega—it could kill him one day. Literally be the death of him.

 But he couldn’t stop it. No matter how many times he told himself he was being a selfish fuck he just couldn’t bring himself to care about Omega, and stop caring about Kaidan.

 “Do you know something I don’t?” he asked carefully, fear prickling across his shoulders no matter how much he tried to push it aside.

 Jack shook her head. “Nah, just… you know how you were talking about feeling weird a while ago? I’m feeling it now, too.”

 “I’m sorry, Jack,” he finally said.

 What else could he say?

 “Yeah, well… just stop being such a fucking dumbass.”

 She pushed away from the desk and went to leave, but paused at the doorway. Glancing over her shoulder, she gripped the frame hard.

 “Hey, Shepard?”

 “Yeah?”

 “If you decide to do something stupid like get killed, let me know beforehand so I can kick your ass.”

 “Yeah, sure.”

 “And if you need a second or some shit, like in the duels and stuff? I’ll be there.”

 “You’re acting like I’m actually going to die,” he said, trying to laugh but unable to even get a smile out.

 She shrugged. “Just stay safe, numbskull.”

XX

 Shepard knocked on Kaidan’s apartment door and waited. He had Kaidan’s keys in his pocket but didn’t use them, still not comfortable just waltzing into a space that wasn’t his own—no matter how many times Kaidan tried to convince him it was.

 It was nearing one in the morning. Shepard felt lightheaded and exhausted, but after everything that had happened he couldn’t let himself rest; couldn’t lie down and pretend everything was okay. He’d dragged Kaidan so far into his world he’d been arrested like some petty criminal, and Shepard had to make sure he was okay.

 He just had to apologize.

 He had to make it okay again.

 He waited for a time, fingers drumming the side of his leg, before the door opened and Kaidan appeared, still fully clothed and looking rumpled and exhausted.

 “Hey—”

 Kaidan pulled him in for a hug. Shepard’s ribs protested but he ignored the pain and hugged Kaidan back, face burrowing into his shoulder.

 “I’m so sorry,” he said, wincing as Kaidan’s fingers dug into his sides and pulled at his shirt. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that—you shouldn’t have had to have seen me like that. Fuck, Kaidan—I’m _so_ sorry.”

Shepard didn’t realize how guilty he had felt until he could finally confess. It was like a giant wound had grown and spread across his chest and only now was he feeling any sort of relief, the squeezing, pressurized ache lifting as he held on to Kaidan and apologized.

 “Don’t be sorry,” Kaidan said. He pulled away slightly and knocked their foreheads together. His eyes were closed but his brows were drawn in tight, like he was holding in his own secret pain. “What they did to you was wrong and unjust and I… I’d do it all again. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

 They stayed pressed together like that for some time. Shepard brought his hands up and cupped Kaidan’s face, petting his temples and massaging the back of his skull. Kaidan let out a long breath, the heat of it caressing Shepard’s lips and jaw.

 “I heard about your father and—” Shepard began, but Kaidan hushed him with a kiss.

 “Don’t worry about that,” Kaidan mumbled when they broke apart. “Just… can we just pretend that everything is okay? Just for one night?”

 “Y-yeah… yeah, definitely.”

 “Let’s live in the illusion together,” Kaidan said with a sigh. “Let’s get out of here.”

 Suddenly the walls pulled away just a little, and Shepard thought maybe he could see the sky again.

 “Where to?”

 “I don’t care—anywhere or everywhere. Let’s just drive like we did in November and see where we end up?”

XX

  They ended up at the beach just outside the city. It was mid-May but still cold at night, and neither had brought jackets. So they sat in the car and listened to the radio, hands tangled together over the gearstick, neither speaking as Kaidan watched the waves lap at the shore, and Shepard watched Kaidan through the glow of the moon.

 He looked exhausted and weary. He looked as tired as Shepard felt.

 He looked defeated.

_You put this on him. This is all you._

 He turned and looked back out at the ocean, trying to find solace in the simplicity of the back and forth motion of the surf.

 And then Kaidan started to laugh.

 The noise caught Shepard off-guard. At first he thought Kaidan was crying, his shoulders shaking and lips contorting in an ‘S’ as he tried to hold it back, but then he let out a loud snort, and the floodgates were opened after that. Shepard just watched as Kaidan laughed, head tossed back and eyes squeezed shut, deep rumbles drowning out the singer on the radio.

 “Are you okay?” he asked, smiling despite his confusion.

 Calming himself for a moment, Kaidan sighed and turned to Shepard. “You know what I was doing before I came to see you today? I went to see my doctor about my migraines, and she told me it was all from stress. She told me I needed to relax—to do something fun for the weekend. So instead I got myself arrested, disowned by my father, and I broke my favourite coffee mug.”

 He began laughing again. Tears streamed down his face and caught the light of the moon, mirth and frustration and just plain confusion mixing together as he laughed and laughed and laughed.

 “It’s just so… so stupid,” he wheezed. “Everything is so melodramatic and fucking stupid.”

 Shepard chuckled then touched his sides as his ribs pulled. “Yeah, it kind of is.”

 Kaidan calmed again and looked over at Shepard. The calm didn’t last and he was at it again, this time Shepard joining in.

 “Fucking stop it, K—my sides aren’t ready for this,” he said, his breath hitching between giggles.

 He couldn’t stop either, and before he knew it they were both bent over, hands locked together as they laughed away their pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Annaraven for her wonderful work as my beta. And a big thanks to you guys for all your support! I love you all! :)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Graphic sexual situations
> 
> Kaidan deals with the fallout from his fight with his father, and Shepard almost loses an eye to a straw.

 Kaidan stared down at a cluster of cancer cells under the high powered microscope, watching them vibrate across the dish without a single care in the world except to multiply. Their lives were simple—straightforward. Replicate and replicate and replicate until they’d destroyed their host and…

 Die.

 Just curl up and die inside their host’s husk, nothing left to feed on so they could keep growing. They consumed everything in their path and left nothing in their wake.

 Simple, in a way. Horrific and destructive, but simple. One clear goal in mind and that was it.

 Kaidan envied the little cells. He wanted that simplicity—that assurance in his goal. He wanted to be as clear-minded as cancer; to have a purpose laid out before him without the complexities that life brought to the table. Complexities like choosing your lover over your family, causing a rift so wide that it was impossible to see the other side.

 Kaidan hadn’t heard from his father in almost two weeks.

 A part of him had thought maybe after everything had calmed down and they’d both had time to _think_ , his father would call him up and ask to chat. That Kaidan would be able to convince him of the _good_ in Shepard and the _good_ in their relationship—that it wasn’t a foolish, brash decision he had made and that he wasn’t being a fool for loving someone like Shepard. He wanted nothing more than the chance to prove to his father that Shepard was worthy of his attention and his care; that he was worthy of a second chance.

 That he was worthy of his son’s love.

 When Kaidan had decided to go into medicine there had been an argument—his father had told him he was proud of his choices but saddened that Kaidan had gone and applied to the medical faculty. He was upset that Kaidan hadn’t replicated his life; married his high school sweetheart, bought a house right away, and gone to the police academy to carry on the family tradition.

 Kaidan had lashed out. Just barely eighteen and still trying to fill his boots and carve a path for himself, he had pushed back. He felt stifled by his father’s actions, reading his words and behaviour more as a bid to control his life than as a father’s love and concern. Kaidan yelled at him, desperate to be free of his father’s shadow and legacy. His father didn’t react well. They screamed until their throats were raw and they were red in the face.

 Kaidan had never been so angry in his life.

 Until now, that was.

 But when they’d both calmed down his father had come to him to apologize. They spoke rather than shouted, and Kaidan grew to realize that his father only smothered because he cared. It was frustrating and annoying, but also reassuring that no matter what, his father would always care.

 He didn’t have that reassurance anymore.

 His father hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, and hadn’t made any bid to talk to Kaidan even after the days rolled into weeks. Kaidan was effectively cut out—tossed to the side and disowned without a moment’s hesitation. He was free from his father’s judgement and control.

 The freedom tasted like ashes.

 Kaidan’s mother had called when she’d found out what had happened, but her words were of little encouragement. She liked Shepard—thought he was a ‘nice kid’—but understood his father’s concerns. She had called both of them her ‘stubborn boys’, but had nothing constructive to say to him other than that it would fix itself in time.

 She had invited Kaidan over for dinner, but Kaidan declined. He didn’t want to put her in that awkward position of mediating an ineffective conversation between her husband and her child—between her stubborn boys. Besides, she was right: time was needed.

 It was the uncertainty of how long that time would be that made Kaidan want to curl up inside; made his guts twist and his throat constrict with the thought that maybe that ‘time’ would be months or years or even an entire lifetime before things could be mended.

And so he was effectively disowned from the Alenko household until he picked his father over Shepard—until he agreed with his narrow-minded world view **,** his assessment that Shepard was a danger; a man who wasn’t worth a dime; a man who wasn’t going to amount to anything but an early grave.

 Kaidan loved his family but he wouldn’t abandon Shepard so he could be invited back in. He wouldn’t do it—couldn’t do it. His morals wouldn’t allow him to even consider it.

 That didn’t mean the sense of abandonment didn’t hurt like a sonofabitch, however.

 Sighing, he pushed away from the microscope and began cleaning up his workspace. The lab was empty, everyone having called it a day hours ago. The sun had set and the windows were black, the only light in the lab florescent and flickering. Taking off his lab coat he hung it next to Miranda’s before turning off the lights and locking up.

 Sitting at his desk he grabbed his phone, noting two things: it was late (9:35 late), and Liara had called him three times in the span of two hours.

 She knew. His mum must have told her.

 He deleted the notifications. He didn’t need her lectures.

 Pulling up Shepard’s number he sent him a quick text.

_[9:36] Kaidan: Hey. Forgot to eat today. Want to grab a late dinner with me?_

 He didn’t have to wait long for a response. Shepard had been hovering close to Kaidan since his fallout with his father. A combination of guilt and genuine concern had kept Shepard nearby—literally and figuratively—and Kaidan tried to find solace in his company. He hadn’t told Shepard exactly what had happened, but Shepard was nothing if not perceptive.

 He knew that Kaidan had been forced to pick a side. A part of Kaidan figured maybe Shepard also thought he’d picked the wrong one.

_[9:36] Shepard: I could go for some Chinese._

_[9:37] Kaidan: I’ll come pick you up._

_[9:37] Shepard: Guess I should put some pants on :P_

XX

 “You’re really tense, K.”

 Shepard ran his fingers up and down Kaidan’s back, pressing along the bumpy edges of his spine in slow, hard movements. His head was pillowed near Kaidan’s ass, face pressed against his lower back, the occasional nip to his skin applied whenever Kaidan stopped moving.

 “I’m studying,” he mumbled.

 He had woken early after a series of nightmares involving his mother’s passing. In the nightmares he hadn’t even been told that his mother had died and missed her funeral and wake, much to his grief and guilt. When he woke at five in the morning he untangled himself from Shepard, took a shower, found some research notes and articles, and crawled back into bed with them.

 He’d been studying for four hours, stopping only briefly to give Shepard a good morning kiss.

 Distraction was key in his whole ‘don’t think about being disowned’ coping thing.

 Shepard had refused to get out of bed and start his day despite Kaidan telling him he wasn’t obligated to lounge next to him for the entirety of the morning. He just rolled down the bed and made himself a nice pillow out of Kaidan’s ass.

 Shepard had been oddly affectionate the last few weeks. Kaidan hadn’t told him the specifics, too afraid that if he started speaking about his father he’d either break down and cry, or start ranting and raving until his head popped off.

 “You going to be studying all day?” Shepard asked. Kaidan could feel him rolling over, hot breath dancing along the band of his boxers. A hand slipped down and Kaidan let out a grunt as his ass cheek was massaged.

 “I’ve got a lot of work to get through,” he mumbled, glancing over his shoulder to only see the back of Shepard’s head as he applied soft, lazy kisses to his lower back.

 He felt his cock twitch but turned back to his notes nonetheless.

 It became difficult to read the data figures before him when the wet, popping sound of Shepard coating his finger in spit filled the room, and harder yet when said wet finger began probing around _down there_. Closing his eyes, he pushed up into Shepard’s touch, bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he was teased within an inch of his life. Curling his toes, he shifted his hips up at Shepard’s insisting, goosebumps spreading out across his exposed skin as Shepard pushed his boxers down.

 “John…” he mumbled, trying to go back to his reading but finding it difficult to think about data and stem cells and cell multiplication when Shepard’s hot breath was caressing his backside, fingers were rubbing and pressing, and teeth were nipping the skin over his right cheek gently but firmly.

 He lost his battle when Shepard’s tongue replaced his fingers.

 Pressing his forehead against the scattered booklets and notes over his pillow, he listened to the paper crinkling as he pushed his face down and raised his ass. Moaning loudly, he squeezed his eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of Shepard’s lips on him, and the scratch of his stubble as it rubbed against and between his cheeks.

 Biting his bottom lip he ground up, needing more of Shepard’s touch.

 This was a much better distraction than medical journals.

 He didn’t last much longer after Shepard started stroking him in time with the flicking of his tongue. He came with a sudden cry, gripping the pillow and crumpling up one of the articles in the process. He rode the high of the orgasm for as long as he could, his mind completely blank and free from worries and what-ifs. It wouldn’t last long, but Kaidan was desperate for that peace of mind and would hold on to it for as long as he could have it.

 Collapsing on the bed after all was said and done, he rolled over onto  what had become Shepard’s side of the bed, letting go of the crumpled paper in the process. Bushing his hairs off of his forehead, he watched as Shepard slinked up his body and collapsed on top, a heavy ‘oof’ slipping past Kaidan’s lips as he did so.

 “How was that for a distraction, hm?” Shepard asked, nuzzling Kaidan’s temples, mumbling something about his sideburns tickling as he did so.

 “That was… that was great,” he said, still out of breath. Wrapping his arms around Shepard’s waist, he pet his soft skin, enjoying how a simple hug no longer hurt Shepard like it had last month.

 He was recovering slowly but surely, the bruises that marred his body all but gone, and the ache in his ribs had become just a twinge. Kaidan was worried Shepard would overexert himself and destroy what healing had occurred, but for now…

For now he’d hug him a little tighter.

 “Just great?” Shepard lifted his head, eyes narrowed. “I thought that was at least a fantastic—maybe an amazing.”

 Kaidan chuckled and cupped Shepard’s cheek, watching as Shepard turned to kiss the palm of his hand.

_Never in a million years did I think I’d have this…_

 It just took some major sacrifices.

 His expression must have changed. Shepard’s brow furrowed, and he nudged their noses together.

 “Hey… you’re looking depressed again. Stop that.”

 Kaidan sighed and kissed Shepard, ignoring how bad the kiss tasted. Morning breath plus ass breath was not a good combination.

 “Sorry. Just… hard to shut it off,” he said.

 Shepard rolled off of Kaidan and lay beside him on the bed, their shoulders pressed tight together. Kaidan could hear his notes getting further rumpled but couldn’t bring himself to care.

 “Anything I can do?” Shepard asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. It probably was.

 “Nah. I just need… time, I think. Time to sort through it all and… yeah. I just need time.” He rolled onto his side, and kissed Shepard’s shoulder. “And you being here with me… it helps. A lot. So thanks, John, for putting up with me.”

 Shepard smiled then—genuine and unguarded and so achingly beautiful. Another reminder of why he made the choice he had made.

 “We should do something today,” Shepard said. Sitting up he stretched his arms over his head, hiding a wince Kaidan knew he wanted to make. “I got paid the other day, so it’ll be my treat—whatever you want.”

 Kaidan quirked a brow. “I thought work was—“

 “Bouncing. My boss still needs someone to man the doors even as the cops are snooping around the area.”

 Kaidan nodded. Getting out and about sounded good. He’d purposely wrapped himself up in his work as a way to ignore the pain so he’d forgotten it was mid-spring. This was the time of year where he spent most of his free time outside enjoying what little sun Vancouver provided, drinking sugary, experimental drinks from Starbucks with Liara, and visiting Stanley Park with his parents—

 “Hey, John?”

 Shepard grunted and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah, Kaidan?”

 “Want to go to the park?”

XX

 There were three things that Kaidan never expected from Shepard.

 The first was that he managed to convince Shepard to go into the local hipster-infested Starbucks near Stanley Park.

 Second, Shepard ordered a sugary Frappuccino with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.

 And the last one was Shepard holding his hand in the park, no stiffness or furtive glances here and there that told Kaidan he was deeply uncomfortable with the public display of affection.

 In fact, Shepard seemed remarkably spirited as he drank his Frappuccino and went on about Jackie Chan and his plethora of injuries. He was so animated he almost stabbed himself in the face with his straw—twice.

 It was bizarre.

 Kaidan had never seen Shepard so chipper outside of the privacy of his own apartment. There was a stillness to him when they were in public—a guardedness in the way he spoke and held himself. He acted like a man who had been in one too many fights, and expected the final blow to come at any moment. Tali had once likened him to a caged lion, muzzle covered in scars and eyes tracking the subtlest of movements as he stalked back and forth along the fence line.  

 But he was acting like… well, like how Kaidan thought he should act. Carefree and a little loud, a brightness in his eyes and movements animated and without restraint. He seemed goofy and free.

 He seemed like he was twenty-five and hopeful about his future.

 But that didn’t mean it wasn’t weird. Shepard had told Kaidan about the issues surrounding his gang; about the murder investigation and the fear that it could happen again; how Blood Pack were carrying guns and had every intention of using it on _him_ just a month ago. Shepard had almost been beaten to death and yet he didn’t show the signs of it. He didn’t look scared or angry or anything of that nature. He just looked happy to be with Kaidan.

 And Kaidan was happy to be with him. However…

 “How have you been feeling lately?” Kaidan asked as they stopped under the wide branches of a red cedar.

 Shepard looked away from a group of men playing Frisbee in a clearing, brow quirked. “Huh?”

 “You been alright?” he repeated. Taking a sip of his ice coffee he held the straw between his lips for a moment, waiting for Shepard to reply.

 “I’m alright,” he said with a shrug. “Why?”

 “I dunno, you just… you seem really good.”

 “Yeah…” Shepard said slowly. “And you’re saying this like it’s a bad thing because…?”

 Kaidan backpedalled quickly, not liking the way Shepard’s face dropped and desperate to get his smile back. “No, it’s not bad! It’s good—really good. It’s just, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now and I’m just concerned you’re… I don’t know. I’m just wondering, I guess, if you’re alright? Not hiding anything because—“

 “I feel guilty that I caused your dad to abandon you?”

 “What?”

 “I don’t feel guilty, K, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Shepard explained. “I’m not playing shit up so that I can fix what happened between you and your dad—I can’t make up for that. I mean yeah, I feel like shit that it came down to it, but I can’t argue with the results. You’re here with me and I’m happy for that.”

 “That’s sweet, John,” Kaidan mumbled, and kissed Shepard quickly. It was a minor relief to hear that Shepard wasn’t internalizing what had happened between him and his father. That wasn’t Shepard’s burden to bear—it was Kaidan’s. Still…

 “You sure you’re okay, though? You don’t want to talk about what’s going on with you? I feel like I’m… like I’m hogging the spotlight or something.”

 Shepard rolled his eyes and swung an arm around Kaidan’s waist, guiding him further down the path. “And I haven’t hogged it already? I want to pamper you, K. For however long you need it, I’ll be here to keep you afloat. You’ve done it for me countless times. Like when I thought I’d break from the pressure, or bleed out on the streets in this godforsaken fuckhole, you were there keeping me… keeping me alive. So if you need some support I’m here. Forever—I’ll always be here and… yeah.”

 He shrugged and sipped his Frappuccino.

 Kaidan swallowed back the emotion in his throat and nodded, gripping his cup a little too hard, making the lid pop off. Trying to fix it, he kept his attention on it and not the way his chest squeezed with pressure from emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. Happiness from Shepard’s obvious dedication and love? Surprise that Shepard would admit all of that without holding back? Anger and frustration that his own father wasn’t capable of the same level of compassion and loyalty?

 Gratitude that Shepard had put aside all of his troubles and worries to be Kaidan’s support.

 He coughed into his hand and leaned further into Shepard’s embrace.

 “Thanks.” He kissed the corner of Shepard’s mouth.

 “Not a problem.”

 They wandered the park for some time with Shepard admitting along the way that he’d only ever visited twice in his lifetime. Kaidan distracted himself by showing Shepard some of the better points of interest, supplying small facts here and there. Shepard seemed to enjoy himself, taking pictures with his cellphone and catching Kaidan unaware in a few of them.

 Eventually they both tired and collapsed under a tree in the grass, Shepard stretching out on his back with a loud, exaggerated groan. Kaidan stayed sitting, knees tucked in close and arms locked around them as he watched fellow Vancouverites enjoy the sunshine.

 A child with her father playing catch caught Kaidan’s eye. Off in the distance they stood apart, the young kid with an oversized glove in one hand and a ball in the other. Her father was grinning and trying to get her to throw it back to him, but the kid seemed much more enthused about annoying her father than playing the game, a shriek of joy punctuating the air as the father began to chase after her.

 “My dad is on the police baseball team,” he found himself saying.

 Shepard hummed and nudged Kaidan with his knee. “The police have a pastime other than busting my ass?”

 Kaidan snorted and ducked his head, smiling slightly. Raising his head he dropped his legs, stretching them out in front of him.

 “When I was a kid I’d go and watch him play with my mum. I always thought he was the best on the team because he always sat on the bench—he was so good he didn’t have to play, you know? Turned out he only joined the team to sit around with the guys and drink a beer, and actually hated playing.”

 “Did he ever go up to bat?”

 “Yeah, but he never did very well. Except for the first game I attended after my two-month long hospital visit. My mum brought me to the game all wrapped up in a blanket even though it was mid-summer, and we watched him play from a special spot on the bleachers that my dad had made up before we came. That day he played like a pro. Almost got a homerun and everything. His team didn’t win, but he kept telling me he felt like a winner because I was there to see him play…”

 He cleared his throat and lay down next to Shepard. Staring up at the clouds, he watched as they swirled about, making odd patterns in the sky.

 “When I was diagnosed with cancer he got the entire police precinct to donate to research, and about half of the force shaved their heads—including my dad. That’s when I discovered my dad had a weird shaped skull—kind of like an egg.”

 Shepard chuckled and rolled over onto his side. Kaidan could feel his eyes on him.

 “Did you ever go to work with your dad?”

 “All the time when I was a kid. My mum was really busy with her work and couldn’t take me with her during the summer months, so I’d go sit with my dad in his office. He had this little table set up for me, and I treated it as my own little office. His coworkers would come in and ask me for things and play along… It was fun, you know, to share that with my dad.”

 He sighed and ran a hand over his face, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes to stop the welling of tears. He wasn’t going to cry over this—he just wasn’t going to. He steadied himself and dropped his hand, swallowing back the tears.

 “Listen to me, I’m talking about my dad like he’s dead,” he said with a tremble in his voice.

 “Hey… K… it’s okay to be upset about this,” Shepard said softly. He reached out and rubbed Kaidan’s shoulder, slow, steady rocking motions working their way through Kaidan. “Your dad is a big part of your life and this kind of shit just doesn’t blow over in a week.”

 “I know, I’m just… I’m just frustrated because I thought that his love for me would trump everything else, you know? My dad and I were close, you know, and I feel so… so mixed up about what happened. Because I know he’s wrong and I know I did the right thing, but I just want so badly to make it—to make it okay again. I want him to remember that I’m his son, not some kid he can just lecture into submission, you know?”

 “I get that,” Shepard said.

 Kaidan sighed—long and shaky—before sitting up, brushing back the tears that had managed to escape. Shepard  followed suit, sitting up and leaning his shoulder against Kaidan’s.

 “Do you think he’ll stick to his guns or…?” Shepard asked.

 Kaidan shrugged. “He’s stubborn and hates admitting he was wrong or got carried away. I…” he sighed, “I honestly don’t know. Maybe?”

 The knowledge that his father might never come around hit Kaidan then, and he ducked his head, suddenly feeling sick with longing to just make everything right again. But he couldn’t—not without sacrificing his integrity and his beliefs.

 Not without sacrificing the once in a lifetime love he had with Shepard.

 “You want to… you want to get out of here?” Shepard asked. “Go get some food or just go back to your place?”

 Kaidan nodded and sat up straight, focusing on the here and now—the immediate question of food.

 “Food sounds good,” he said, taking Shepard’s hand as they stood. “Preferably with lots of grease and sugar.”

 Shepard smiled and patted Kaidan hard on the back. “Red Robin it is.”

XX

 It was the second time that day Kaidan was surprised by Shepard’s actions, and also the second time he was stuck to the sheets.

 After dinner they’d wandered back home where they briefly watched a movie of Kaidan’s choosing. But almost as soon as the film started their hands begin to wander, and they hurried off to the bedroom with the film still playing in the living room. Collapsing on the bed they kissed like men starved for affection, Kaidan desperate to lose himself in the man he loved—the man he’d abandoned all sense of reason and reality for. A man he couldn’t get and would never get enough of.

 But instead of surging forward and getting right down to it like Shepard was wont to do, Shepard slowed things down—took to Kaidan’s guidance and allowed himself to be caressed and admired and worshipped.

 Shepard had come a long way since their first time, the sex less about getting off and more about enjoying the journey together, but he still shied away from Kaidan’s loving glances, and laughed away Kaidan’s flowery praises. But every now and again he’d slow down and take his time; he’d let Kaidan take his hand and guide him; he’d trust himself completely in Kaidan’s hands.

 They kissed and touched and moved together at an easy pace, sweat building up between them as the sun set and the stars came out. Shepard spread himself beneath and wrapped himself around Kaidan, mumbling words of endearment against his temple as he was prepared and stretched and finally—finally—filled.

 Kaidan had to take a moment then.

 Surrounded by everything that _was_ Shepard, Kaidan felt complete. He felt complete and at peace and so goddamn certain about this—about them. Shepard was the one. He was the Ace to his King; the Commander to his Major.

 He was Kaidan’s soulmate.

 Kaidan locked eyes with Shepard in the gloom of the room, everything suddenly making sense to him. His anxiety and constant what-ifs floated away, and Kaidan was certain of one thing:

 He loved John Shepard, and that was all that mattered. Backed into a corner by his father and offered an ultimatum, he’d been forced to make a choice. And he made the right one. He knew for certain as Shepard cupped his jaw and stroked his cheek, breath unsteady and body warm and inviting.

 Shepard was letting Kaidan in in full. No more barriers, no more second-guessing. They had each other; that was what mattered.

 “I love you,” Kaidan said. He realized they were both trembling.

 Shepard’s lips parted and he smiled, fingers carding through his hair, petting the scars at the base of his skull with no fear or pity.

 “Love you too, K,” he said, and squeezed a moan out of Kaidan.

 Kaidan took him all in—from the scar across his scalp to the cut above his brow, the depth of his bright blue eyes and the strong lines of his nose, across the curve of his lips and down to his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing along a strained neck.

 “Hey, K.”

 “Yeah?”

 “This is really gay.”

 Kaidan couldn’t help but chuckle, and moved down for a slow kiss as he began to move his hips, giving in to his primal urges once his poetic ones had their fill.

_Definitely made the right choice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Annaraven for her lovely beta work (seriously, she's amazing, you guys!)
> 
> Just wanna warn you guys that the next chapters are going to deal with some very heavy themes. I don't want to spoil, but just know that if you're in a bad space right now and don't think you can deal with really intense moments, you might wanna take a break or steel yourself for the coming scenes!
> 
> Thanks for reading/kudos/reviewing. Y'all are INCREDIBLE. Honestly, I'm a little overwhelmed with all the support you've all shown me-- in big and small ways. When this puppy is done and posted, I'll try and get every piece of work (art, fanmixes, etc) that have been made from you guys in one place so I can share it with everyone!


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Gun violence, Panic attacks, Grief, Death, and Discussions of mortality 
> 
> Prepare yourselves, you guys. This might get a bit intense.

 Shepard held the titanium ring between his thumb and pointer and lifted it up to circle the sun. Squinting from the light despite the aid of his sunglasses, he rolled the ring back and forth, feeling the warmth and the smoothness with a detached appreciation.

 “What the hell are you doing?”

 Shepard fumbled with the ring, heart leaping up into his throat. Curling his hand around the ring he dropped his arm and looked over at Jack, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

 “I was just doing shit—none of your business,” he said, shoving the ring back into his pocket. He didn’t let go of it.

 “Uh-huh…” Jack reached under her tank-top and readjusted herself. “Any particular reason you told me to meet you _here_?”

 Shepard was leaning against the storefront of a jewellery shop on Granville Island—a place that didn’t exactly cater to their type. Trendy and full of tourists and hipsters alike, Granville was where people went to spend their money and feel important doing so. Shepard had been here on occasion to do some drug deals, but it was always just minor shit like pot—a drug that even a housewife could get away with trying in Vancouver. The place smelled of over-priced artisanal produce and wet, hand-spun yarn, and the people who had been wandering by while Shepard waited gave him a look that he’d seen all too often.

 You don’t belong here.

 But he was here, and he wasn’t leaving until he got what he needed.

 “I need your input,” Shepard said as he grabbed Jack’s arm and dragged her out of the way of oncoming foot traffic. Pulling out the ring from his pocket, he showed it to Jack. “I got this from a pawn shop a couple of days ago. I’ve been saving up for it the last few months.”

 For some reason Shepard felt nervous, like an itch under his skin he couldn’t quite scratch. Jack’s silence wasn’t helping. She looked at the ring for a long time, hands shoved in her back pockets and feet rocking back and forth. Finally she glanced up at Shepard, brow raised over the edge of her sunglasses.

“You proposing to me or some shit?” she asked, completely deadpan.

 “What? No! What the hell—no, this isn’t an engagement ring. And it’s not for you,” he added hastily. “It’s for Kaidan.”

 The last few weeks had proven to Shepard that Kaidan was dedicated to him. Kaidan had picked _him_ over his family—he’d disavowed his own father because he saw _something_ in Shepard. He thought they had a chance together and the knowledge that someone other than just Jack and Anderson saw potential in him—saw a future in him—had touched Shepard more than Kaidan probably knew. He wanted to show Kaidan that he appreciated his love and support, and that he was right there with him; willing to see things to the end.

 However near or far that end might be.

 He’d spotted the ring in the Eastside just a week before he’d been jumped. Business sometimes entailed speaking to ‘respectable’ pawnshop owners about fulfilling their end of the bargain and not ‘sampling’ the product with their friends. Shepard had been sent to gently remind the owner of his previous agreement with Aria, and while he’d been leaning over the counter listening to the man splutter and spurt excuse after excuse he noted the ring in the display case. Nestled in with an assortment of obnoxiously large gold and gilded rings, sports rings, and a few high school graduation gaudy masses of metal, was a simple titanium band. It was solid and plain, no adornments or decoration. It spoke of hidden strength.

 It reminded Shepard of Kaidan.

 But it was close to a hundred bucks, and Shepard just didn’t have that kind of money to drop in one go. So he put a down payment on it and went about his business, figuring if he didn’t think it was a good idea in a few weeks he could always just cut his losses and decide to put it back on the market. After all, Kaidan wasn’t one for jewellery beyond his expensive watches, and the gift could be interpreted as something else—something like Jack thought it was.

 But when Kaidan held on to him like he was afraid to lose him after the incident with the police and Kaidan’s father, Shepard knew.

 He had to get it.

“You’re proposing to Kaidan?”

 “No!” Shepard shouted, scaring an elderly couple as they hobbled by. Clenching his jaw, he breathed hard through his nose before continuing. “This isn’t an engagement ring—it’s just a ring. A ring _ring_ , nothing more than that. It’s just something I want to give Kaidan because I want him to have a thing from me to him. So he knows that I’m like, his guy or whatever. So he knows he’s—you know you can just fuck off, Jack.”

 She was grinning, tongue pressed between her teeth.

 Running a hand over the back of his head, Shepard tried to collect his thoughts, hating how his words caught on them as he attempted to explain to Jack what the ring was supposed to represent. He was never very good at speaking when it came to how he honestly felt, years of bottling things up making it hard for him to express anything beyond a constipated groan of frustration.

 “I want to give him something so he knows that I’ll always be around—I’ll always be with him, even if shit falls through between us. He picked me over his family, Jack. He picked _me_. And I just… I want him to know that I love him, and that I’ll always be loyal to him, even if we break-up and he stops sucking my dick.”

_At least it sounded good until the last part._

Jack’s smile softened, and he could tell she was rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses.

 “You’re really sweet on this guy, huh?” she asked.

 Shepard shrugged and put the ring back in his pocket, afraid he’d lose it. “He means a lot to me and I want him to know it.”

 “So that’s why you wouldn’t go out for Chinese with me for weeks. You were busy saving up to buy a ring for your boyfriend.” She punched Shepard’s arm hard.

 She was still smiling.

 “I was also saving up money to get it engraved.” He tried not to rub his arm, not wanting to admit to Jack that her punches fucking hurt.

 “So what do you need me here for?” Jack asked.

 “I’m trying to decide what to get engraved,” Shepard said. Asking Jack for any poetic suggestions was like asking a cat for swimming techniques, but she got him like no one else. She would know if what he had engraved really spoke to his nature.

 As much as he enjoyed Garrus’ company and Edi’s witty—if not slightly off-kilter—jokes, he knew Jack would be able to help him pick something that was _him_. Something that would let Kaidan know this was all him in this gift—no Hallmark intervention needed.

 “Got any ideas?”

 Shepard pulled out a slip of paper from his back pocket, the sides curled and crinkled inward from days’ worth of fiddling. He’d scribbled down a series of ideas while he was stuck in his bed after the beating—scribbled being the key word. His penmanship was sharp and angled, the words looking more like he’d carved them through sheer force of will than gently rolled them onto the page with ink.

 Jack snatched the sheet before Shepard had time to make sure they weren’t all fucking horrible, and immediately began reading them aloud.

 “Okay, the first one is dumb—‘forever and always’ is just too generic. ‘Yours truly’ sounds like you’re writing him a fucking letter. ‘My Ass is Yours’ is more your style, but maybe not his—he’s a tight-ass rich fuck, after all…”

 She paused on the last one, and Shepard waited impatiently as she re-read it a few times. Finally she looked up at him and sighed.

 “’Your dude, always’. Really, Shepard? Your _dude_?”

 Shepard grabbed the paper back and looked down at it. It was the last one he had come up with. He wished he could blame it on the pain medication he was on, but he’d been clear and sober when he wrote it.

 “Kaidan and I call each other dude all the time. It started out as a joke but… it just stuck, I guess. It’s better than calling each other baby or love or some other fucking generic shit.”

 Jack held her hands up in surrender. “Hey man, no need to get so defensive. I’m just saying it sounds kind of stupid. Which is perfect for you now that I think about it.”

 “You think I should get it engraved?” he asked, a little surprised she’d picked that one over the My Ass is Yours.

 “Why not? Seems your style, and if Kaidan doesn’t laugh then maybe he doesn’t deserve a pawnshop quality ring.”

 “And you don’t think this is a bad idea?” he asked, ignoring her jab at where he got the ring. He was beginning to second guess himself. This wasn’t him—this wasn’t his style. Kaidan was going to get weirded out by it, he just knew it. He was used to subtle things, like hand-holding in the park and making him shitty coffee in the morning.

 A ring just wasn’t them.

 And yet Shepard felt good about it. When he saw the ring he got all warm inside thinking about it being on Kaidan’s finger. The simple fact of the matter was that Shepard, for all his posturing, _liked_ the cheesy, romantic things in life too. He liked the thought of Kaidan wearing a ring he bought him. He liked Kaidan knowing he cared. He was tired of hiding his heart from Kaidan in fear of making a real connection with someone.

 Putting his heart on the line was scary and intimidating. And yet giving his heart to Kaidan filled Shepard with a sense of… peace. In all the books he’d heard about and movies he’d watched, love was scary and all-consuming and dangerous. But Shepard felt none of that with Kaidan. What he felt was peace and calm and warmth. When he was with Kaidan he felt right with the world; he felt like he could lay his head down and find some quiet and solace.

 He felt like himself.

 “Let’s go do this,” he said, entering the store.

 Jack chuckled and followed behind, mumbling something about how Shepard was such a dork.

XX

 Shepard had been playing a game of cards with Edi when he got the call. Normally Aria didn’t call, her main means of communication a quick text demanding his presence. But this time was different.

 “Grizz got arrested and our mechanic’s garage was raided by the police,” she said as soon as he picked up.

 Dropping his cards on the table, he slipped out of the booth as Edi collected her peanut winnings.

 “The garage? Why did they raid the garage?” he asked, standing in the hallway leading to the bathroom. Aria sounded pissed—and not in her usual way. The quiet rage she wore under the surface of her coifed visage was no longer bubbling at the surface, but had crested and taken over. Her voice was tense and he could practically hear her eye twitching.

 “That’s not important. I need you to come to my house right away.”

 “You’re not at the office—“

 “Right. Away.”

 She hung up.

 She knew.

 She had to.

_She knows._

 A lump formed in Shepard’s chest. Hard and heavy, it felt like someone had taken the edge of a cube and pressed it against his throat making it difficult to swallow. A pinching pain wiggled its way over his heart, and he rubbed the muscles of his pec idly as he stared down at the background of his phone.

 It was a photo of Kaidan on one of their dates, grinning over a gigantic bowl of Ramen noodles. Shepard hadn’t even known Ramen noodles were anything but pre-packaged and crunchy before that day…

 “Shepard?”

 Edi was standing a short distance away, the pockets of her apron stuffed with peanuts. She was holding on to the package of cards tightly.

 “Are you alright?” she asked. “You look very ill.”

 “Y-yeah, I’m fine. My boss just… I have to go,” he said, surprised by how calm he sounded.

 He grabbed his wallet from the table, pausing to give Edi a kiss on the cheek on his way out.

 “Thank Garrus and Joker for the free beer,” he said.

  _And for a hell of a lot more._

 Edi nodded.

 Aria didn’t do anything rash or without careful thought beforehand. She looked at all of the evidence and then acted—it was what got her this far. She was a smart woman; a clever, cunning, ruthless woman.

  _She knows._

 Otherwise she wouldn’t be showing all her cards through a single phone call.

  _Maybe this is my chance. Maybe I can tell her I’m out—that the game just isn’t in me anymore. I can break loose and she’ll let me go…_

 Aria lived far away from the Eastside in an apartment that rivaled Kaidan’s. Immaculate and sparse, the place spoke of hidden wealth and power. Aria would host dinner parties for her clients within the lavish space, but preferred to spend her time in the small office above Afterlife, the well-worn leather couch a more familiar space to her than the bed she had overlooking the city. Shepard had only been to her house a few times—for a party here and there, acting as a ‘pretty bodyguard’ when the occasion called for it. He’d attended meetings there as well, Helena Blake, Barla Von, and Pitne For just a few of the crime bosses from across Canada who had stepped through her halls.

 But he had never been the subject of the occasion. He had never been the special guest—the one everyone was waiting for.

 Taking the elevator to the correct floor, he stared down at his shoes, shoulders hunched and hands balled into fists inside his leather coat.

_She knows._

 He felt remarkably numb; like he was watching it all from a distance. The other shoe was about to drop and he couldn’t find the energy to get out of its way when it did.

 Was this what defeat felt like? If so, it was surprisingly difficult to grasp in any concrete form.

 He knocked twice on the big red door at the end of the hallway and waited, and waited, and waited, until Aria answered herself.

 She was dressed in a business suit, black on black on black, but Shepard could see that she’d slept in it the night before, the shoulders not as pressed and the slacks with bunches along the side. Her hair was perfectly styled but even then Shepard could see the frayed edges. It was her eyes that caught his attention and kept it, however. Steely blue eyes were looking out at him through narrowed lids, any semblance of courtesy gone.

_She knows._

 “Come in,” she said, stepping off to the side. Shepard did as instructed, still feeling as if this wasn’t truly the end.

 She’d give him time, wouldn’t she? Time to say goodbye? She wouldn’t kill someone in her house. It wasn’t her style.

 Right?

 He followed her down the hallway, boots heavy on the dark wood floors as they passed the Japanese inspired artwork on their way to the back room. Stepping into Aria’s office he stood where he always did, and she sat where she always did. He didn’t say anything; didn’t move; didn’t make a sound. She was in control—she knew it, he knew it—and he wasn’t about to beg. She wanted to see him squirm and goddamn it, Shepard wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction.

 He wasn’t dead yet. He still had his pride.

 “The police found evidence in the garage linking Grizz to the crime,” she said, voice even and steady as toyed with the edge of her glass, the vestiges of brandy at the bottom. He could smell ash in the air and knew she’d been smoking.

 “That’s a shame,” he said.

 She hummed and downed the last of the brandy. “An informant I have within the police tipped me off about it, but only I can do so much. Eventually he’ll be tried and no doubt thrown in jail for the rest of his foreseeable future.”

 Shepard didn’t know what to say—didn’t really know where she was going with it. He had nothing to do with Grizz or the murder or anything. Wasn’t this about Kaidan?

 “Grizz was one of my best men, Shepard. He was one of my most loyal, hardworking men. And I sent him to do this job to avenge you.”

 Shepard didn’t look away from her gaze no matter how much he wanted to.

 “A low life, backstabbing, traitorous snitch,” she continued, words prickling into him and stinging like venom.

 Shepard paused. “A snitch? What the fuck—“

 “You were arrested with Sergeant Alenko’s son.”

 She thought he was the snitch because of Kaidan. She thought he was informing the police through Kaidan. Shepard didn’t know what to say—couldn’t begin to figure out a way to untangle the accusations from the truth. He was seeing a cop’s kid, no denying that, but he wasn’t the snitch. He just wasn’t the fucking snitch.

 He’d die for Kaidan, but he wouldn’t die for something he never did. He wouldn’t die for another man’s mistakes!

 “Yeah but—“

 “You were arrested alongside a cop’s son!” she said as she stood. Bracing her hands on the desk, she knocked over her glass, the last of the reddish coloured brandy seeping out over her papers. “I put my best man out there on a limb to protect you—to avenge you—and you thank me by fucking a cop’s kid and telling him every fucking thing about our business. You jeopardized everything I have built and for fucking what? For—“

 “I didn’t—“

 “Don’t you dare interrupt me!” she shouted. “You have ruined everything. The police are hounding our every step and rooting out my businesses. They’ve been arresting and convicting some of my best fucking men. And then you come in here and try and deny it? You’ve been seeing that bastard for months and you’ve been distancing yourself from me for months. And after everything I have done for you!”

 There was no use denying it. It hit Shepard then that she’d made up her mind. He was the snitch and there was no getting away from that—not in her mind. She’d see her mistakes when her world kept collapsing after he was dead and buried, but not before then. She didn’t want answers or explanations—she wanted to demean him and belittle him before she stuck the knife in all the way and twisted.

 He couldn’t convince her no matter what evidence he had.

 He thought he was going to be ill.

 Instead Shepard held his ground and clenched his jaw tight, breathing hard through his nose even as his knees began to feel weak, the other shoe crushing him with the overbearing weight of defeat.

 “You haven’t done shit for me,” Shepard said through gritted teeth. He had to say his piece. He couldn’t just go without saying something— _anything_. “You picked me up from the ground when I was a vulnerable fucking child, and you groomed me to be your perfect fucking attack dog. You made me into a monster so you could continue to bleed these fucking streets dry. Don’t make yourself into a martyr or a saint—you’re a ruthless piece of shit businesswoman who only protects a person until they become an inconvenience. You just don’t get it, do you? You’re not Vancouver—you don’t own the city or its people. And you don’t own me.”

Aria grabbed her glass and threw it hard against the wall. Glass crashed and splintered across the carpet next to Shepard, pieces falling into the back of his shirt. He didn’t have time to move—didn’t even have time to process what was happening—before Aria surged around the desk and grabbed him by his chin.

 Yanking him over to the chair she shoved him down on to it and towered over him, still holding on to his face like a mother would to her small, misbehaving child. Shepard gripped the armrests of the chair, unable to move from sheer _embarrassment_.

 “All of your successes were because of me,” she hissed, leaning down so their lips were almost touching. He could smell the brandy and anger on her breath—heady and perfumed and sickeningly sweet. “The apartment you own and the clothes on your back are because of me. The trinkets you’ve bought your slut and the dinners you’ve taken him on are because of me. Your reputation, your power and strength, your status as a man—all of them are because of me. Without me you’re nothing but an uneducated thug. Without me, you are _nothing_ , Shepard. I made you who you are—I made you what you are. You were nothing before me. And I can and will undo you just as quickly as I made you.”

 Aria shoved his face away, wrenching his neck to the side. He watched as she straightened the cuffs on her shirt and took a sharp intake of breath, cheeks flushed with fury. It was sunny outside but Aria blocked the rays, keeping Shepard in the cold shade.

 “I made you, Shepard,” she repeated, “and you’re mine—no matter how much freedom you think you have.”

 “Fuck you,” Shepard gritted out.

 She quirked a brow, the corner of her mouth twitching, but she didn’t say anything. Instead she walked back around her desk, heels grinding the glass further into the carpet. Shepard stayed where he was, knuckles white as he gripped the chair as if it were the only thing keeping him from dropping into the pit below.

 “I suggest you get your affairs in order before tomorrow morning,” she said, voice emotionless—like she was telling him that rain was wet or she’d seen a cat along the side of the road.

 Shepard couldn’t breathe.

 Aria dragged her finger along the streak of alcohol, wiping up what was left with the pad of her finger. Brushing it off on her trousers, she sent him a sharp glance.

 “I’ll see you tomorrow at six in the morning at the Cargill bulk terminal near the docks. Dress warm—I hear it’s going to be a… dreary morning.”

 Shepard didn’t remember leaving. He didn’t remember standing up and walking out; didn’t remember stumbling out onto the busy street; didn’t remember walking down the deserted alleyway; didn’t remember collapsing against the building.

 But he remembered the pain as the panic set in. He remembered when the ache in his chest began to blossom out across and through his body so that every nerve felt like it was on fire; he remembered how he couldn’t breathe; he remembered how he couldn’t focus and everything seemed to be closing in around him.

 He always knew Vancouver was going to be his grave, but as the dirt fell on top of the casket and the light began to fade, Shepard found that expecting and knowing were two different things.

 He didn’t want to die.

XX

 ‘If you had only a day to live, what would you do?’

 Garrus had asked him that once as the firefighters rushed into the back of Palaven during a particularly nasty grease fire. Shepard had found the timing of the question a little odd, but when he looked over at Garrus he saw the anxiety in his eyes and the way he held his mouth. Knowing that a distraction was what he needed, Shepard played along and said:

 ‘Blow all my money on cigarettes and expensive booze, crash a wedding and run off with the groom.’

 He had expected a similarly cheeky response from Garrus, but instead he turned serious.

 ‘I’d spend it with my sister and my dad. I don’t think I’d tell them it was the end though. I’d like to just hang out like we did when we were kids—a clean slate just for one day. I’d like to be with my loved ones, you know?’

 Shepard didn’t _get it_ get it. Not then.

 Not until now.

 He’d stayed huddled in the alleyway for an hour until the pain subsided and the taste of vomit became nothing but a memory. As soon as Shepard could think clearly—as soon as everything had settled—he knew that he had to see Kaidan one last time. This was it: his last day to live, and he finally got what Garrus meant.  

 It took him a while to get to Kaidan’s, the streets clearing but the rain starting. A storm rolled in and Shepard walked through the streets sopping wet, heading to a place that he could rest if but for a moment. When he arrived the sun had set and the streetlights had come on, the rain subsiding enough so that it was just a gentle patter against the leather of his jacket.

 He stood in front of Kaidan’s apartment door for some time—long enough that the constant dripping from his nose dried, and the chill in his toes faded.

 He didn’t know what to say when he saw Kaidan. A part of him thought maybe he should just go—fade out of Kaidan’s life and let him move on thinking Shepard had just decided to leave. It would be easier on him. He could move on and forget about the fuck-up that was John Shepard. Shepard could be a fond memory he looked back on as he sat in a house with his partner and three kids.

 It would be easier to just walk away.

 But instead of turning and leaving, he slipped the apartment key out of his pocket and into the lock, turning twice before the sound of the latch ricocheted off the walls. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he walked into the apartment, noting how quiet it was. Quiet and dark…

 Like a tomb.

 Taking off his shoes and jacket he walked through the now familiar space, finding his way to the bedroom where a soft glow emanated. Opening the door slowly, he peeked his head in to find Kaidan lying in his bed, nude save for the strip of blanket over his waist. His back was to the light on the bedside table, and one of his textbooks was open next to him—abandoned in the wake of Kaidan’s sleep.

 Shepard chanced a glance at the clock and noted it was still early.

 Migraine.

 He just stood there, unable to move. He could still turn back—still leave Kaidan with that chance to think maybe he’d buggered off. Let him think he’d finally grown a pair and fucked off to let Kaidan live a real life.

 But then Kaidan moved. Rolling over slowly, he opened his eyes and looked across the space to Shepard, tired brown eyes filling Shepard with unending warmth and joy. He felt like his heart was going to break just looking at him.

 “Hey,” Kaidan said, voice soft and smooth like whiskey.

 “Hey.”

 “You’re all wet.” Kaidan’s brows furrowed slightly.

 “Just got caught in the storm,” he said. Sitting down on the edge of the bed he reached out and placed his hand over Kaidan’s chest—right above his heart. Kaidan put his overtop, tangling their fingers together.

 “You alright?” Kaidan asked.

_My grave has been dug and I’m walking toward it tomorrow. I put all my chips in on one bet and I’ve fucking lost it all. I’m only twenty-five years old and I don’t want to die. I’m so fucking sorry for everything. I just wanted to be fucking happy and I’ve ruined everything. I’m so, so fucking—_

_I’m so fucking scared, Kaidan._

_“_ I’m fine. Just tired.”

 He took in another deep breath before taking his hand from Kaidan’s. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the ring and presented it to Kaidan.

 Kaidan sat up a little further, elbow braced under him on the bed. He didn’t make any move to take it. Instead he looked up at Shepard, eyes slightly wide.

 “What… I mean… is this for me?”

 Shepard nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat.

  _This isn’t fair to him._

 “I uh… I picked it up a little while ago from a shop. I saw it and I thought… well, I thought maybe you’d like it. You know… as a reminder of me. Of how I feel about you.” He turned it slightly to show off the inside. “I got it engraved and… yeah. I mean, if you don’t want it—“

 Kaidan sat up and reached out for it, taking it into his hand like it was made of delicate glass. Turning it around Kaidan read the inscription, his full lips quirking up into a soft smile that Shepard felt deep in his gut.

 “I love it, John,” he mumbled. He put it on his ring finger. His left one.

 “I just… I want you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, K. You’ve changed my life and made me feel… you’ve made me feel like a person. A person and not just some worthless muscle for hire. Before I met you I didn’t think much of the world, but now I… now I want to stick around, you know? Now I want to experience what life has to offer beyond this fucked up city and… and I owe you for that. You’ve… you’ve changed my life, K. And I love you for it.”

 Shepard didn’t know when he started crying, but when Kaidan reached out to brush away the tears with the pad of his thumb Shepard knew he couldn’t stop. He collapsed forward, face buried in Kaidan’s shoulder as he broke down all his walls and just cried—cried for the life he had gained and the one he was going to lose; cried for the joy Kaidan had brought him and the horror he knew he was going to place upon him; cried for the good memories and the painful ones.

 Shepard just cried and held on to Kaidan, desperate for some solace in a maddening world.

XX

 He left before the sun came up. Sitting on the edge of Kaidan’s bed he dressed with slow purpose, taking his time. As soon as he stepped out of the bedroom there was no turning back—no running away or asking for help.

 He was a dead man walking out there. But in here he was just a guy in love.

 Putting on his shirt he stood and looked out at the Bay from the full-length windows. The sun would be coming up shortly but hadn’t yet managed to break the darkness, the lights still twinkling down below and reflecting off of the waves.

 It reminded him of his first night with Kaidan—when everything was new and uncertain. When Shepard didn’t know where he belonged in the world and how he fit in. Back then he’d been just as afraid, but for other reasons altogether. Back then he didn’t know where he was going or what he had in his life—back then he didn’t know how good it could feel to fall in love.

 And now he was afraid because he was about to lose it all.

 He turned and looked at Kaidan one last time. He took in the wild mess of curls that stuck up from his head and rested across his brow; the part of his full lips and how he snored gently when he was in deep sleep; the three freckles across his right eyebrow and divot from an old injury next to them; the dusting of hair across his chest and how he always breathed so steadily—so certain—like the tide coming in.

 He stopped at his hands as they lay curled gently on the pillow, the titanium band on his finger catching the light of the dawn as it began to creep across the sky.

He was strong and intelligent and so achingly beautiful.

 Shepard wanted so fucking much to get back into bed with him—hide in his arms until he couldn’t run anymore. He just wanted so fucking desperately to live. To continue out his adventure with Kaidan.

 But he couldn’t.

 He had to go and face the music. There was no escaping the rules of Omega once you’d broken them. The first rule of Omega—don’t fuck with Aria.

 He left.

 He didn’t write a note or tell Kaidan what was happening. It was better that way—less messy. Jack would tell him that he’d been caught fucking around and that… that he’d been dealt with. It’d break Kaidan’s heart but he’d move on. He was strong and determined. He’d love again.

 It was cold outside like Aria said it would be. By the time he’d reached the dock it was light out but the sun had yet to push back the chill. Ice crystals hung in the air, fog coating the water and rolling out across the platforms. Shepard could see three people standing near the edge—two tall and one shorter but no less impressive.

 Aria. Patriarch. Wrex.

 They saw him and waited patiently while Shepard willed his legs to work and his mind to just fucking quiet down. He tried to breathe evenly but found that it was was coming out in short, unsteady busts across the cool air.

_You’re stronger than this, Shepard. You’re motherfucking Shepard—terror of the Eastside. You’re a fucking legend. All this time you had with Kaidan? It was just borrowed time anyways. You knew it was always going to end like this. You knew. So go and face the music with your head held high. You’re ready for this—the final fucking curtain is about to fall and you’d better be on that fucking stage when it does._

 He walked forward, footsteps heavy on the cement as he strode toward Aria with purpose.

 He stopped just in front of her, hands stuffed in his pockets. He didn’t see any weapons on Wrex or Patriarch, and briefly wondered how he’d go.

 He hoped it would be quick.

 “Hey,” he said, breaking the silence.

 Aria smirked, but it seemed forced. “I’m glad you showed.”

 “Did you doubt it?”

 “No. You’ve never been one for running away.”

 Shepard nodded, hating how his breath halted yet again. He was shaking but chalked it up to the cold.

 “So how are we going to do this? Is Wrex going to tie me up and Patriarch going to throw me over the dock? Maybe stab me or something? Fake fentanyl overdose? How about—“

 “You’re babbling, Shepard,” Aria said. “There’s no need for this kind of small talk. You’ve been one of my best men for a very long time. Despite your transgressions, I don’t want you to suffer.”

 “Small mercy then, eh?” he said, his voice cracking.

_Don’t give her the satisfaction of seeing your fear._

 “Why’d you do it, Shepard? Why did you give it all up?” she asked, her voice softening.

 There was a lot of things Shepard could have said. He could have told her that he’d never been loyal in the first place—that he’d only joined so he could survive and belong somewhere. He could have tried to explain to her that he wasn’t the snitch and he’d never done anything beyond fucked the wrong guy. He could have made excuse after excuse.

 Instead he just answered with his heart.

 “I fell in love… I just fell in love with the right kind of guy in the wrong kind of situation.”

 Aria’s face remained impassive until finally she nodded. “Romantic. Fucking naïve and stupid, but romantic.”

 “Yeah…”

 Wrex and Patriarch remained silent. Shepard couldn’t catch Wrex’s gaze.

 At least someone felt bad.

 “So are we going to get this over with or—“

 “Who’s that?” Patriarch said.

 Shepard looked over his shoulder to see someone hurrying down the dock, hands in their pockets and shoulders hunched.

 “I don’t know,” Aria said, and Shepard swore he could hear fear in her voice.

 Patriarch brushed past Shepard and made move to intercept, but before he could get any further there was a flash of a red bandana around the wrist of the man as he pulled a gun from his jacket.

 “This is for Blood Pack!” the man yelled, then fired the gun.

 Shepard turned around and grabbed Aria, instincts kicking in before he could stop them. Pulling her in tight he curled his body over and held on to her like he would a lover, shielding her from the shots that just kept ringing out over the docks.

 One.

 Two.

 Three.

 Four.

 Five.

 Six.

 Shepard felt something in his chest—a sharp pinching sensation followed by another throb deep in his gut. Pulling back slightly, he furrowed his brows as he tried to breathe in but found it hard to get his chest to expand.

 “What the…”

 He looked at Aria and found only horror on her face as she lifted her hand away from his chest to find it coated in blood.

 “G-guess someone beat you to it,” he managed to get out.

 Then the world fell away and blackness took its place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) :) :) I love you all pleasedonthateme
> 
> Shout-out to Annaraven for the beta work! And a shout-out to you for all sticking with me for this long, and being the most supportive, amazing, wonderful people ever. Notice how I'm being EXTRA nice today? It's because I fear... I fear, you guys. I fear...
> 
> Just trust in me.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of death, traumatic injury, gang violence, gun violence
> 
> Sorry this is a bit late! Please read the ending note for more information about updates in the coming months!

 Watching your child age and grow up was a bizarre experience. Time and the passage of it completely changed, years turning into months and months into minutes. One day you’d look over at your child and realize they’d grown up—moved on past the simplicities of childhood and begun to live their life separate from you. It wasn’t gradual and it wasn’t kind; it happened in an instant.

 Sasha had been told this by his own father the day Elisa gave birth to Kaidan.

_‘He’s going to grow up quickly, son. One day you’ll be holding him in your arms and then next day… he’ll be out of your reach.’_

 Sasha had held on to Kaidan for as long as he could. He’d doted on him—or so Elisa had said—but he didn’t care. Kaidan was a special kid; delicate and wise beyond his years. He was his only son—his only _child_ —and he wanted the world for him. He paid for his piano lessons, karate lessons, and attended every dance recital when Kaidan briefly toyed with the idea of becoming a dancer. When Kaidan said he wanted to become a professional explorer Sasha buried a treasure box in the backyard so Kaidan would have something to find, stuffing the chest full of Pokémon cards and chocolate loonies.

 And when Kaidan got older and discovered other things about himself, Sasha did what he could to help him through the changes. He taught him how to shave and keep his hair somewhat manageable, and gave him advice about girls and surviving junior high and high school. And when Kaidan brought home a boy after the first year of university Sasha welcomed into the house, both he and Elisa happy he’d plucked up the courage to ask _someone_ out.

 Sasha supported Kaidan. He was his son—the light of his life—and nothing would change that. There were bumps and blips on the radar throughout the years, and Sasha knew he’d fucked up from time to time, but he still supported his son no matter what curveball he threw at him.

 But then Sasha dropped the ball at the final inning. Kaidan came to him with his confession and Sasha had panicked. Years of fighting a deeply engrained war on the streets of the Eastside had left Sasha jaded, and when his son had said he’d fallen for a man on the enemy’s side he’d lashed out.

 He’d disowned his own son.

 The knowledge that he’d done such a thing sat heavy on his shoulders, and yet he struggled with forgiveness both for himself and for Kaidan. He felt betrayed; like Kaidan had sided against him. The knowledge that Kaidan had fallen in love with someone who was so contrary to his morals and his world was like a slap to the face.

 Sasha wasn’t able to get over the lingering sting it had left.

 Elisa had said he was being stubborn and foolish, and that by pushing Kaidan out of his life he’d damaged their relationship in ways he couldn’t imagine. She understood his concerns about Kaidan choosing to be with a man such as John Shepard, but thought Sasha was to blame as well for the altercation.

_‘He deserved to be called an idiot, but disowning him? Really, Sasha, was that the logical thing to do? He’s our son—not a criminal and not someone you can bludgeon into submission.’_

 And yet she made no move to repair the damage Sasha had done. Elisa stood off to the side and let the matter unfold. Probably something to do with making him own up to his mistakes...

 Still, no matter how much it hurt Sasha just couldn’t get rid of the sour bite of anger in his mouth. Kaidan had refused his advice and was making a horrible mistake, and Sasha couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. So he turned the other way—he turned his back on his own son.

XX

 “It had been a while since we’ve had a moment’s pause.”

 Sasha glanced over at Samara in the car. She was staring out the window, hand resting gently on the scanner as it bubbled away with calls and reports.

 “Yeah.”

 “It feels good to get out on patrol. I was beginning to suffer from cabin fever in the office.”

 He smiled. “Yeah. Same.”

 Stopping at the red light, Sasha dropped his hands from the wheel and adjusted his belt, watching the empty streets with tired eyes. It was too early. Far, far too early.

 “Hey, Samara…?”

 “Yes?”

 It took him a while to continue. The light turned green and he moved into the intersection, passing a fish market that was just opening its doors to bring in the morning haul.

 “When your daughter ran off, did you… did you ever regret how things went down?”

 She didn’t reply for some time. Sasha waited patiently. After years of being partners they’d managed to acclimate to one another to the extent that they probably knew each other better than their families did. Samara took time to answer, but she was always truthful and, at times, surprisingly chatty.

 “Every day,” she finally said.

 “Do you wish you could have changed things?”

 “Yes. But, ultimately, Morinth had made her choices and I mine. If I were presented with the chance to make things right, however, I would take it without a moment’s pause. She is my daughter, despite her transgressions. I do not hold on to this pain and regret lightly. It would be good to find some relief.”

 He chewed the inside of his cheek.

 “You are thinking about Kaidan.” She said it as a matter of fact.

 “Yeah.”

 “You two still have not spoken, have you?”

 “No.”

 She sighed and fiddled with the radio as a dispatch message came through. They began speaking again once it became clear they were too far from the scene to do anything.

 “I heard Anderson spoke with you,” she said.

 “More like defended Shepard. That guy has got a blind-spot a mile wide when it comes to some of those kids in the gangs.”

 Samara hummed in agreement.

 “Still,” she began, “if Anderson can vouch for him, perhaps there is some good in the boy. Your son seems to think so.”

 He gritted his teeth.

 “Just because he’s my boss doesn’t mean I have to agree with his judgement of—“

 The radio crackled alive, interrupting Sasha’s rant. The smooth and familiar voice of dispatcher Avina broke through the rumble of the car’s engine and the beeping of various devices in the vehicle.

 “We just got a call come in. 2100 at the Cargill Grain Terminal, 801 Low Level Road, North Vancouver. Caller says an unknown man ran down the dock with a gun and fired shots. Two potential victims reported. Suspect has fled the scene.”

 “We are close,” Samara said, already reaching for the radio on the dash.

 Sasha nodded and flicked on the sirens and lights before gunning the car down the street.

 There was nothing like a shooting to create a much-needed distraction.

 “This is F8007 on our way to the docks now,” Samara said. There was a series of short beeps, other emergency vehicles chiming in, before the radio went silent and the scream of the sirens filled the cabin.

 It took them only a minute to get to the area, and they noted with some surprise that the gates had already been pushed back, a dock worker ushering them inside in his bright orange jumpsuit. He swung his arm wildly to the right and Sasha took the turn, driving as quickly as he could between the shipping containers. Taking the only turn he could, they happened upon the scene.

 At the end of the dock Sasha could see a person kneeling next to one of the potential victims, shoulders hunched as they leaned over their chest. In the middle of the dock there was a body face down, greying hair blowing in the sea wind and getting matted in the blood pooled around. A short distance away stood a tall native man with a cellphone in his hand and a look of concern on his features.

 Sasha knew him.

 Wrex.

 “Radio in that this is gang related and get some of our men down here,” he told Samara as he put the car in park. Jumping out of the vehicle he drew his gun and pointed it at Wrex who immediately dropped his phone and put his hands up.

 “He’s dead,” Wrex said, nodding his head to the man on the ground.

 “Who is he?” Sasha asked, approaching the body to check for himself. Kneeling down, he pressed his fingers against the man’s neck and felt no pulse. In the background he could hear the ambulance sirens approaching.

 “Patriarch. The kid shot him twice.”

 Sasha knew Patriarch. They had a small file on him. The man kept mostly to himself, only coming out to do business here and there. He had a reputation for discretion and leaving a trail of bodies behind him. Sasha guessed that whatever had happened here wasn’t part of Omega’s plan.

 Standing, he raised his gun and headed toward the second victim while Samara cuffed Wrex. There was the stutter of brakes behind him, a second police car pulling up, and he could hear Samara calling in the body over the radio, reporting the situation to the precinct.

 But all of that fell away the closer Sasha got to the end of the dock. He couldn’t see the face of the man lying on the ground, but he saw the rivers of blood as it ran across the dock, coating the bits of pebbles and grey cement in dark crimson. The man still alive, but with the amount of blood coming out Sasha knew he wouldn’t be for long—not if the ambulance didn’t hurry the hell up.

 “Stand with your hands up,” he said to the person—the woman—crouched over the body.

 Aria T’Loak looked up at him with a start. Her skin was pale and stretched tight across her face, and her lips were pulled in a thin line.

 Sasha knew Aria by reputation alone. He’d looked through multiple photographs of her, read report after report on her dealings, and seen her briefly on the streets going in and out of her ‘businesses’ with an efficiency better suited to Wall Street than the Eastside. She was like a ghost—a mythic figure, almost. That white unicorn he’d been chasing through the streets for years. Whenever he thought he had her—whenever he thought he could drag her in and charge her—something would happen. A piece of evidence would go missing or a witness would suddenly refuse to talk. All the work put into a case would vanish in a single moment, and Aria would slip away again.

 Sasha had waited years to meet her in person—to see that same look of shock on her face when he finally nailed her to the wall. But he hadn’t expected it to be under these circumstances. Never did he expect to find her kneeling next to a dying man, hands coated his blood as she desperately tried to staunch the flow from a chest wound.

 “If you want him to live than you’ll let me keep my hands right where they are,” she said.

 The ambulance pulled up behind him. He kept his gun on her until the EMTs rushed forward, medical bags in their hands, one bumping him by accident as they passed. Aria kept her hand on the wound until one of the medics replaced the pressure.

 It was then that Sasha put his gun away and pulled out his handcuffs. Aria turned around without instruction and presented her blood-coated hands to him. Wrapping the cuffs around her small wrists he tightened them and tugged her back from the body, giving the medics room to work.

 “We’re going to have to ask her some questions,” one of the medics said as they pulled out a valve mask.

 Sasha couldn’t see the victim’s face, his view blocked. Off in the distance more police had arrived along with a fire truck, and they had begun securing the area. It wasn’t often they had a shooting of this kind in the city and it had drawn quite the crowd. Sasha had been working the last time the gangs got too full of themselves. He’d seen a shooting. He’d gotten over the excitement of it all when he watched some kid die in the gutter with a look of complete panic in his eyes.  

 “Vitals are weak and he’s not breathing. We’ve got serious trauma to the lungs. Eyes are unresponsive and pupils dilated. We have a lot of bleeding going on—a lot. He’s bleeding too much for this to be the only bullet wound,” one of the EMTs said to the other.

 “Ma’am, can you tell us if there are more wounds other than this one?” the medic asked over his shoulder. He ripped open a package and pulled out a tube. Pushing the man’s head back he slipped the tube down his throat with ease, years of practice making it a non-issue for him.  He then placed the mask over the victim’s face, pumping air into his otherwise unresponsive body. The other began cutting away at his shirt, exposing the wound on his chest but nothing else. A giant pad was put over the trauma and pressed down, blood already seeping through.

 “I don’t know. I just saw the one on his chest,” Aria said.

 She sounded unsettled, and Sasha followed her gaze. It was locked on the dying man’s hand, an omega tattoo black and bold on the pale skin across.

 “We’ve got to get him moving or he’s a goner,” the one pumping air into the man’s lungs said. He turned back to Aria. “Do you know any information about this man that might help? Blood type, medical history—his name, even?”

 “His name is John Shepard. Blood type is O positive.  He’s twenty-five. He’s allergic to codeine.”

 Sasha would have been impressed by Aria’s knowledge of her ‘employees’’ medical records were it not for the name of the victim. His heart dropped into his gut and his grip around Aria’s arm tightened. All the noise around him faded into the background, his mouth going dry and his breathing stuttering for just a moment.

 He couldn’t think of anything beyond his son in that moment.

 If Shepard died then Kaidan would fall apart—he’d break into a million pieces and Sasha wasn’t sure he could put him back together. Kaidan worked so hard to keep his health in check and he was always walking a delicate line—balancing everything in his life so he wouldn’t weaken himself, opening up the door for illness after illness. Kaidan was gentle both physically and emotionally and Sasha knew his kid had put his everything in Shepard. And if Shepard died than a piece of Kaidan would, too.

 It hit Sasha then that Kaidan wouldn’t even know what had occurred. No one would tell him that Shepard had died. The underworld was notoriously tight-lipped when it came to the death of one of their own. Kaidan would break himself apart thinking about what happened to him. He’d destroy himself with worry and guilt and Sasha wasn’t prepared to let that happen.

 Sasha didn’t give a damn about Shepard. The kid could rot in prison along with the rest of them. But he’d give his life to see Kaidan happy. He’d do _anything_ for his kid—including keeping a usurious bastard alive if that meant seeing Kaidan smile.

 “Sonofabitch,” he mumbled.

 Aria snorted and glanced over her shoulder. “Finally figured it out, did you? Your kid isn’t going to be happy.”

 He clenched his jaw and squeezed down on her arm a little harder.

 “Do you need her still?” he asked the EMTs as they began prepping Shepard for transport.

 “No,” one of them said tersely.

 Sasha dragged Aria away from the scene, resisting the urge to look back at Shepard. He didn’t look good. He didn’t even look alive.

 The dock was covered in police by then, and in the distance numerous news crews had managed to bully their way past the Cargill employees. He could see Donnelly and Mills off to the side and gave them a quick nod before continuing on his way. Aria walked with her head held high and an air of superiority about her, the distress she exhibited before floating away as she was paraded down the dock.

 He caught the attention of a rookie cop next to his cruiser—a kid new to the gang unit and still a bit unsteady in his boots.

 “Jenkins; I’m going to need you to take T’Loak down to the precinct. Stick her in one of the cells alone and wait for further instruction.”

 “Yes sir,” he said. Taking Aria’s arm he tugged her toward the back of the cruiser. Aria kept her head raised and sent him a look as she was shoved into the back.

 He didn’t have anything on her and she knew it.

 The ambulance hurried past, blue lights flashing as they carried Shepard away. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it, and didn’t know if he should be getting ready to inform his son that his partner had died.

 “I can’t be a part of this case,” he told Samara as he sidled up to her.

 She turned, brow quirked. “How come?”

 “The victim that just got carted off is John Shepard.”

 Samara sighed. “Your son—”

 “Will want to know, yeah.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off a headache. “I’m going to go see him now.”

 “I understand. Are you going to be taking our cruiser? I can go back with someone else if need be.”

 “Yeah, thanks. Tell Bailey what’s going on, will you?”

 She nodded and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “Send Kaidan my condolences.”

XX

 When Sasha first started with the force he was stuck doing grunt work—the stuff no one else wanted to do. Paperwork ran high on the list, as did traffic violations and attending court proceedings. But the one thing no one ever wanted to do, and the thing that never got easier no matter how many times you did it, was telling a person that their loved one had been in an accident.

 The first time he had to do it, it had been to inform an elderly gentleman that his wife had been hit crossing the road on her way to the grocery store. She hadn’t survived. Sasha could still remember the way the man’s hands trembled, and how he sucked in the sob because ‘old soldiers don’t cry’.

 For a long time that moment had been the event that was the hardest to look back on. It was the defining moment of his career—the moment when he realized that the world wasn’t as fair and just as he’d thought it was. But as Sasha approached his son’s apartment door, he realized that this would be the most difficult thing he’d have to do as a police officer. He had to tell Kaidan that the man he loved was probably dead.

  _This_ would be his defining moment.

 Normally he would have knocked and then entered, but things had changed. Boundaries had to be respected. He had to stay on one side of a line that he had drawn, no matter how much it pained him to.

 Tucking his hat under his arm he steeled himself for the conversation. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle the inevitable fallout that was going to happen. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to face Kaidan in that kind of pain. Not anymore; not after everything Kaidan had already been through.

  _He’s not a child anymore. He’s your grown son—he’s a man. He can handle it. You don’t have to protect him._

 He knocked and waited, the quiet rumble of his radio his only company.

 He was surprised by how quickly Kaidan came to the door. One second it was closed and the next he was there, disheveled and still in his pajamas.

 “John—“

 He paused, the hope in his eyes dulling as soon as he saw him. Sasha swallowed back the guilt and nodded.

 “Kaidan.”

“H-hey, Dad… what are you doing here?”

 Kaidan had never sounded so suspicious of him before; he had never sounded so guarded.

 “Can I come in? I’d rather we spoke in private,” he said, trying to maintain a professional attitude but failing when he saw the fear in Kaidan’s eyes. He just wanted to lie to him—he wanted to tell him he was only here to make up and apologize for what he’d said and done.

 But Kaidan had to know, no matter how much it tore Sasha up inside thinking about how his son was going to react. He was putting this pain on his son—he and Shepard and every fucker on the street.

 Kaidan stepped out of the way and ushered him inside. Walking down the once familiar hallway and into the living room, Sasha turned and gripped his hat between his hands. Stilling himself for a moment, he went over procedure. He had to treat this like any other incident. He had to or else he’d never get it out.

 “What’s going on, Dad? Is this about Mum? Is Mum okay—?”

 “Your mother is fine,” he said quickly. Taking a deep breath, he surged forward. “I got called to a shooting this morning at the Cargill docks. Your partner, John Shepard, was one of the victims.”

 “O-oh my God,” Kaidan whispered. He ran his hand through his hair and Sasha noted the ring on his finger. He didn’t recognize it. “Is he okay? I mean is he going to be okay? You said victims—does that mean he’s—”

 “I don’t know right now. He was taken to the hospital in critical condition with multiple gunshot wounds.”

 His words sounded medical and hollow. Maybe he had been on the job for too long.

 “I-I woke up this morning and he was gone, but I just thought m-maybe he’d like… I don’t know, gone home to get something. I didn’t think—I mean…” he said, panicked.

 He was shaking, body overloaded with adrenaline causing his hands to quake and his teeth to chatter. Shock had set in, and Sasha couldn’t even pretend to be professional anymore. Reaching out he took Kaidan into his arms, hugging him tightly and stroking his back. Kaidan gripped his shoulders with a force Sasha hadn’t remembered him having.

 “He’s in good hands,” he said, patting his back. “If he’s half as tough as he says he is, he’ll be okay.”

 Kaidan pulled away, brushing a hand over his face as if to school his emotions, like he was ashamed to show them to his father. Maybe he was. 

 “I need to go and see him—”

 “He’s going to be in the OR and—”

 “Dad. Please. I need to go and see him.”

 Kaidan would never get in alone. He wasn’t Shepard’s family. Sasha was Kaidan’s only hope of seeing him. A part of Sasha—the horrible, ugly, controlling part he pretended he didn’t have—wanted to keep Kaidan from Shepard. This could be his chance to pull them apart; to have Kaidan cut ties with him and move on. Move on to better things and better people.

 But Kaidan loved the man. He loved him like Sasha loved Elisa—unconditionally. Stupidly so, it seemed.

_This could be your olive branch, Sasha. This could be your way to make it up to him._

 “Get dressed.”

XX

 Shepard had been rushed to the OR in critical and unstable condition. He’d been shot twice, one in the chest and one in the kidney. There was extensive internal damage and he’d been unresponsive on the scene. Things didn’t look good.

 “But he’s got amazing doctors,” the nurse said as she led them down the hallway toward the waiting room. Sasha had flashed the nurse his badge and said he was here to check on the status of a suspect. She had a look of surprise but didn’t argue when Kaidan followed behind.

 Sasha tried not to look at Kaidan as the nurse detailed Shepard’s injuries, not wanting to see the pain in his face. It would just make him want to smash the world and fix it back together so that Kaidan could feel whole again. So he could be happy.

 “What’s his prognosis?” Kaidan asked as they stopped in the entrance of the waiting room.

 Sasha saw Captain Bailey in a seat in the corner, the two nodding before he turned his attention back to the nurse and Kaidan.

 “—but if they can stop the bleeding than he should be in good shape to recover. I’m afraid that if he does survive, however, it will be some time before you can question him. He’ll be under for an extended period of time.”

 Kaidan just nodded.

 “Go take a seat next to Bailey, son,” he said.

 Kaidan blinked and looked over at his father. It took him a second before he nodded and went to sit as instructed.

 Turning back to the nurse, Sasha passed her his card. “Call me when things change. And if you could, put my son’s name down—Kaidan Alenko—as a registered visitor.”

 “I don’t think I can legally—“

 “Listen: this is a police officer asking. If anything happens just give them that card and send them my way. I’ll deal with it. Kaidan is the only family this kid has. Just… do that for him, will you?”

 The nurse nodded and pocketed the card. “I’ll inform the others.”

 “Thank you.”

 She left him then. Staring down at the tiled floors Sasha took a deep breath and brushed his hand over his face, wiping away the image of Kaidan’s pain from his memory. He had to be strong for him; he had to be there for his son.

 Approaching Kaidan and Bailey, he dropped his hat next to Bailey’s and sat with a low groan.

 “I didn’t figure you for guard duty,” he said to Bailey.

 Bailey sighed. “Well, when a kid gets shot and you’ve arrested two wanted gang members in the process, the higher ups want someone with credentials to keep watch. Just in case he recovers in the next ten minutes and makes a run for it or something.”

 He smiled wryly.

 “You need a coffee or anything?” he asked.

 Bailey waved him off. “Nah, but thanks for asking. He’s not likely to be out of surgery for some time—I can wander off to the cafeteria under the guise of a pee break.”

 With the work side of things done, Sasha turned his attention to Kaidan. He was sitting ramrod straight, eyes fixed on the double-doors that led to the OR. His hands were locked and resting between his knees, a silver ring glittering under the light. Sasha didn’t want to ask what it symbolized. If Kaidan had gone and gotten engaged…

“You want a coffee or maybe a doughnut? You probably haven’t eaten today, have you?”

 Kaidan turned and looked at his father with tired eyes. “I’m fine, but thanks.”

 Kaidan went back to staring at the doors.

 Sasha didn’t know what to do; didn’t know how to make everything easier for Kaidan. He just wanted to fix it—fix everything. His relationship with Kaidan and the words he had said, and the situation with Shepard and the pain it was causing him.

 He just wanted to _fix it_.

 Sasha felt like he had when Kaidan was diagnosed with cancer. Back then he’d felt completely and utterly helpless, unable to protect his child from the pain and the fear and the looming shadow of death. He couldn’t do a single goddamn thing back then, and he couldn’t do anything now.

 He could do nothing but offer his support.

 “I’ve got to get back to work,” he said. Standing, he stepped in front of Kaidan, blocking the door. “When you’re done here and you need some time to rest… you should come to mine and your mother’s place. She’ll make you some food and you can get some rest before you come back and visit Shepard.”

 Kaidan looked up at him, surprise in his eyes. It faded quickly when a nurse walked out, and he followed her movements until she disappeared around the corner and out of sight.

 “Yeah. I’ll… I’ll try and come by,” he said, smiling tightly at Sasha.

 Sasha nodded. That was all he’d get, but he’d take it. Repairing something like a fractured relationship was going to take longer than it did to break it in the first place.

 He thanked Bailey and grabbed his hat. He was halfway out of the room when Kaidan’s voice stopped him.

 “Hey, Dad?”

 “Yeah?” he said, looking over his shoulder.

 “Thank you. For everything.”

 He smiled and put his hat back on. “You’re welcome, son.”

_Just wish it had been under better circumstances._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Things still aren't over, but we are quickly approaching a conclusion! I wanted to try something new with this Sasha POV chapter so I hope it worked! Thanks to Annaraven for doing her amazing editing skills. Couldn't have done this without her!
> 
> Please Read: So I'm leaving on a jet plane on May 2nd (don't know when I'll be back agaaaaain). Actually, I'll be back on June 24th. But that means I wont be in Canada to update! For two months! Fear not, my peaches, for a buddy of mine IRL has agreed to continue updating the story for you guys while I'm gone. The updates will only be once a month (so one in May and one in June), but I hope that'll keep you guys happy. I wont be able to respond to your lovely reviews until I get home, but I will respond! I just thought I'd keep you all updated :)


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of cancer, graphic depictions of ICU's and injury
> 
> This is the last chapter I'll be posting myself for two months! The next two chapters (which will come in mid-May and mid-June) will be posted by my buddy, so be nice to her!

 Kaidan had spent the greater part of his childhood in hospitals. The first few times it had been terrifying—the sights and smells overwhelming for a child his age and with his diagnoses. He’d spent his first week staying overnight in the cancer-ward crying after his parents had left for the night, desperate to be back home where it was familiar and safe, and where it didn’t _hurt_ all the time.

 The harsh truth was that Kaidan became used to it—to all of it. Not only did hospital visits become routine, but his bed at home was less comfortable than the ones he stayed in at the hospital, the smell of antiseptic and disinfectant became a background scent, and the _pain_ became familiar. The constant ache in his arm from the IV to the throbbing from the surgeries, all the way to the sickness from the chemo and radiation—it all became horribly familiar and, eventually, manageable.

 But Kaidan had never been on the waiting end of hospitals. When he went in for surgeries he was passed out, his body and mind shut down for the hours it took to navigate through the complexities of brain surgery. He wasn’t aware of how long it took. He didn’t have to sit for hours upon hours like his parents did, desperate to see the surgeon come around the corner with good news.

 Sitting in the waiting area Kaidan began to realize the sort of torture his parents had had to endure.

 It was a new kind of pain—this nauseating sickness that crawled under your skin and worked its way through every fiber of your being. It was a sense of dread that loomed over you, sinking into you until you felt like you were going to vomit from the stress and pressure of it. It was the oppressive weight of the unknown, and the insidious ‘what if he doesn’t make it’ that threatened to push Kaidan over the edge.

 But he didn’t move from his spot in the waiting room. Others wandered, going to the washroom or picking up a cup of coffee, but Kaidan remained, attention fixed on the clock above the double doors at the end of the hallway.

 Bailey had tried to distract Kaidan with a few games on his mobile—games his grandkid had downloaded for him—but after the second failed attempt at playing Candy Crush Kaidan gave up and went back to his vigil, fiddling with the ring Shepard had given him less than a day ago.

_A promise ring. A promise to make it the hell out of this and come back to me._

 Surgeons and nurses went in and out of the door, but none looked at him or at Bailey. A woman a short distance away was pulled away three hours into their wait, but didn’t return. Kaidan didn’t know if that was because of good news or bad, and didn’t much care.

 Eventually, however, the torture was over when a surgeon came through and locked her eyes on Bailey. Then it was a new form of agony as she slowly walked over, hands raw with soap and scrubbing, a clipboard under her arm and an impassive look on her features.

 Kaidan stood and waited impatiently next to Bailey, head spinning with the possibility that—

 No. Shepard was a fighter. He wouldn’t go down that easily. He wouldn’t just _die_.

 When the surgeon spoke the world seemed to slow down, her words muddled and heavy and so quiet in the soft din of the waiting room, but despite the anxiety playing tricks on him Kaidan heard all he needed to hear.

 “—he’s in stable condition now and resting up. He should make a full recovery, although it will take some time.”

 “Oh thank God,” Kaidan said, noting the tremble in his voice.

 The surgeon turned to him then, suddenly aware he was there. Her gaze flicked down to the ring he was fiddling with and then back up to his face, a small smile on her lips before she turned to Bailey.

 “Unfortunately,” she continued, “he won’t be fit for questioning today. We will be waking him soon, but he’s going to be on a ventilator for the next few hours. He’s also going to be suffering from the effects of heavy sedation. I fear the most you’d get out of him are some grunts and repeated questions about what happened.”

 “Figured as much,” Bailey said. He rolled his shoulders back and flexed his jaw. “When should we come back?”

“Tomorrow afternoon would be best. He’ll have time to clear his mind a little and recover from the ventilator tube—he should be much more helpful then. I have prepared a package for you of his personal effects that might be useful for the investigation. I’ve told one of the nurses to put it at the front desk.”

 “Will he get his things back?” Kaidan asked suddenly. He didn’t know why it mattered, but the thought of Shepard’s leather jacket being locked up in an evidence box made Kaidan feel uncomfortable.

 Bailey made a noise in the back of his throat. “If it isn’t evidence, sure.”

 The jacket probably wasn’t coming back. It probably had bullet—

 Kaidan cleared his throat, realizing the tightness was still there. He should have been feeling relief, but that part of the process hadn’t started yet. He was still feeling uneasy and nervous, like on some level he didn’t believe what the surgeon was saying. That Shepard really was dead, and she was covering for someone. 

 “Can I see him?” Kaidan asked.  

 “He’s still under sedation and in a delicate position—”

 “I just want to see him—just for a few minutes. I want to… I want to see him. Please?”

 The surgeon’s face softened slightly. “Are you family?”

 “No, not technically, but—”

 “He’s been cleared to see him already,” Bailey interjected. “And he’s a good kid. You don’t have to worry about him.”

  _Thanks._

 “I’ll keep it short,” Kaidan said, growing more desperate with each passing second. He just had to see Shepard and touch him and reassure both himself and Shepard that they were going to be okay. He didn’t care what or why or how he was shot, didn’t care what injuries he had or how long they’d take to heal—he just wanted to see his dude.

 Finally the surgeon nodded. “Only for a few minutes, then you’ll have to come back tomorrow during family visiting hours.”

 Kaidan nodded eagerly.

 “I best be off,” Bailey said as he shoved his cap back on. “You take care, Kaidan. That boy of yours is tough—I’ve seen the reports.”

 “Thanks, Bailey.”

 Bailey patted Kaidan’s shoulder on his way by, and Kaidan found some reassurance in the small, brief act. Bailey had always reminded him a little of his father—stern and gruff, but kind and tender beneath it all. Maybe it was police officers in general. Veterans of the force learned to build up their walls and their prejudices along the way, but if you peeled it all back you saw the guy who cared just a little too much; who pushed only because he wanted what was best, and figured his way was that way.

 But wear away at them long enough and…

 They showed up at your door to tell you your partner has been shot and might be dead.

 He followed the surgeon through the hallways of the ICU, surprised that a woman as busy as she was would take the time to personally guide him to Shepard’s room. The hallways were sterile and white, most of the doors closed and the curtains pulled shut, closing patients off from the outside world as they breathed through the pain and held back the nausea.

 Kaidan did much the same.

_Keep it together, Kaidan. You’ve got to see Shepard and make sure he’s okay. Your cancer flashbacks can wait for now; you have got to be strong for him._

 They stopped in front of a shut door, the little plastic basket on the front marked with the name ‘Shepard, John’. Suddenly all of Kaidan’s anxieties slipped away, and all he could focus on was Shepard being just behind that door.

 Alive and recovering. Alive and… just _alive_.

 “You have five minutes, and if those nurses at the front don’t see you walk past—”

 “I’ll be gone, don’t worry.”

 The surgeon made move to leave when Kaidan remembered his courtesies.

 “Wait,” he glanced down at her nametag, “Dr. Michel.”

 She turned, brow quirked.

 “Thank you,” he continued. “For everything. I can’t tell you enough how much it means to me.”

 She smiled. “It was no trouble. The rest of it is up to him now.”

 “I’ll make sure he doesn’t waste the second chance.”

 And then she was gone, leaving Kaidan to stare at the door, his five minutes slinking away as he worked up the nerve to see Shepard lying in a hospital bed.

 He opened the door and stepped in.

 The room was dark save for the thin strips of light that slipped through the cracks in the curtain. The ping of a steady heart monitor and the soft exhale and inhale of the ventilator worked its way into Kaidan’s chest, their heartbeats in sync as the simple sound of _life_ steadied Kaidan. Half the room was cut off by a curtain, Shepard’s bed behind it, hiding him from view.

 But Kaidan could feel him. They could be on either side of a crowded arena, but Kaidan would know he was there. He could feel his presence now—like a warm hug on a cold day; unassuming and gentle and steady.

 Shutting the door quietly, he took a deep breath and walked around the curtain.

Shepard was lying on the bed looking smaller and more fragile than Kaidan had ever seen him. The bed seemed to swallow him up whole as he lay in the center, wires and blankets and hospital gowns taking up most of his form. He was lying flat on his back, face hidden from Kaidan, tubing and wires blocking him from view. Instead, Kaidan found his attention had gone to Shepard’s hand, an IV hooked up on the back, pumping him full of antibodies and liquids.

_He’s going to hate having a needle in him._

 It was then that reality sunk in.

 He had almost lost Shepard.

 Shepard had almost died.

 But he hadn’t. He was here, in front of Kaidan, with a needle in his hand that he was going to try and pull out, in a gown that opened at the back and would be an endless source of anal sex jokes, and covered in surgery scars that he was going to complain were itchy. And Kaidan had been so goddamn close to losing all of that.

_But you didn’t. He’s right here, with you._

 Kaidan started to cry when he approached the bed and took Shepard’s hand in his own. From relief at what was, and grief for what could have been. Shepard’s eyes were closed and his face was slack, skin a sickly pale colour and lips cracked and chapped as the ventilator pushed the air in and out of his damaged lungs.

 He looked like shit, but he was alive, and to Kaidan that made him beautiful.

 “You scared the shit out of me,” Kaidan whispered, brushing away the tears from his eyes. Rubbing the Omega tattoo with care, Kaidan bent over and kissed Shepard’s forehead gently, keeping his lips pressed against his skin for some time.

 Kaidan figured if Shepard were awake he’d tell him to stop crying, that a few bullets wouldn’t keep him down, and that he shouldn’t worry so much. But he was still asleep from a five-hour surgery to save his life, and no assurances would take away from how fucking close he had been to losing it all.

 The door to the room opened, and Kaidan turned to see a nurse had come in with a clipboard in tow.

 “I was just leaving,” he said, clearing his throat and brushing the last stray tears from his cheeks.

 The nurse nodded and went over some sheets on her clipboard, giving Kaidan his privacy by ignoring him completely.

 She was probably used to weeping loved ones.

 Bringing Shepard’s hand to his lips, he kissed his bruised knuckles and gave his fingers a quick squeeze before placing his hand back on the bed.

“When he wakes up can you tell him Kaidan will be back tomorrow to see him?” he asked the nurse. “He doesn’t have a lot of close friends and… and I want him to know he’s not alone.”

 “I’ll let the morning shift know,” she said idly. She jotted something down on the paper, attention flicking up to the heart monitor now and again.

 Kaidan stayed where he was, testing his luck a little by remaining past the five minutes. He didn’t want Shepard to wake up alone. He didn’t want Shepard to _be_ alone—not even for a second.

 “His vitals look good,” the nurse said, taking Kaidan’s lingering as a silent request for information. “He’s going to be on antibodies due to the trauma to his kidney, and he’s suffered trauma to his right lung, but he’s in a good position to recover fully. He’s lucky.”

 “Really lucky…” Kaidan mumbled. “How long will he be in the hospital for?”

 “A week in the ICU,” she explained, “before we’ll move him to the High Dependency Unit. After that it’s tough to say. Three weeks, maybe four. It will all depend on his health and response to physio.”

 Six weeks—a month or more—before Kaidan could take him home. 

 All in all, better than expected.

 Better than dead.

 “You should head home,” the nurse said. Placing the clipboard into the holder at the foot of the bed, she turned to Kaidan, arms crossed over her chest. “He’ll be more copacetic tomorrow. And it looks like you need a nap.”

 Kaidan nodded but didn’t move.

 “Sir, you really need to leave now.”

 Kaidan nodded again and bent over to give Shepard one last forehead kiss before he turned and hurried out, knowing if he looked again he’d never leave without a security escort. As soon as he was out of the room the smells and sights and sounds of the ICU became too much, and without the comfort of seeing Shepard to keep him calm, Kaidan fled the unit as quickly as possible.

 Every now and again, just when Kaidan thought he’d moved on from the trauma of his childhood, everything just hit a little too hard for him to deal.

 He didn’t stop moving until he was outside, the smell of outdoor air and bus exhaust replacing the sour smell of bleach—a welcome reprieve. His head began to hurt and he started to shake again, shock from what he’d just seen working its way into his body.

 But Shepard was going to be okay. All of the wires and tubes and monitoring devices, the sickly pallor and the unsteady breathing, and the uncertainty of a full recovery would be gone in a few weeks, and Kaidan could relax in the knowledge that everything was going to be okay.

 He’d see to it. He’d make sure Shepard was looked after in all ways possible. Fuck Aria, fuck her gang, and fuck their supposed family. Kaidan was going to look after Shepard from here on out.

 “Are you alright?”

 Kaidan turned to see an elderly gentleman in a bathrobe smoking outside the double doors to the main building.

 “I’m fine,” he said, straightening up. He needed to get control of himself—needed to get back on track. Think clearly and without all the fear and anxiety. He had to be in control.

 “Thanks,” he added, before he wandered down the sidewalk to the edge of the hospital’s property, letting the movement clear his mind. It wasn’t until he had made it an entire block that he realized he had no ride home.

 Pulling his phone out, he typed in his password before staring down at the background photo. It was Shepard in his bed, half asleep and grinning with his head pressed down in the pillow. He had just woken up to discover Kaidan had been trying to get a photo of him asleep, and instead of shying from the camera he smiled and mumbled a lazy ‘morning’ just as Kaidan snapped the photo.

 His father’s words about coming to his place afterward tugged at Kaidan’s memory and with it the uncertainty of what his father meant by it. Was this his father’s way of reconciling? His way of apologizing for what he had said, and that he wanted to reconnect? That Kaidan was allowed back into the family despite his choices?

 Or was it his father’s way of trying to pull Kaidan over to his side and away from Shepard’s? Did he think that maybe by showing Kaidan what Shepard’s life was really like, he’d abandon him for the safety of his old life?

 Kaidan wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was he didn’t want to deal with all of that. He didn’t want lectures; he didn’t want to walk that social tightrope with his own family, and he didn’t want to hear an ‘I told you so’ when the love of his life was lying comatose in a hospital bed.

 He just didn’t want to deal with any of it.

 So he called the only person who he knew would push all their biases aside to help him out.

 He called Liara.

XX

 When Liara arrived she came with Kaidan’s favourite coffee, a box of donuts, and an Ashley and Tali in the back of her car. They didn’t pry into what happened during the ride to Kaidan’s apartment, and instead Tali put on her MP3 player and blasted Disney tunes, keeping the tempo upbeat and light despite it all.

 As soon as he was home Kaidan excused himself and hopped into the shower, desperate to clean off the smell of hospital and grief, hating how the memories of his childhood still had such a hold on him even after all this time.

 Once he was clean and dressed almost entirely in Shepard’s things, he ventured out into his apartment to find the girls had set up a game of Monopoly at the kitchen table, bowls of chips and nuts spread out between the piles of money and silver thimbles.

 “Not that I don’t appreciate all of this,” Kaidan began, “but don’t you guys have somewhere more important to be?”

 He’d only called expecting a ride home, but this… this was unexpected.

 “What could possibly be more important than keeping you company, huh?” Ashley asked as she sorted out the money.

 “Besides—you owe us a few games, I figured,” Liara chimed in. She was smiling softly, but Kaidan could tell that there was some hurt behind her words.

 Kaidan realized that he’d been entirely neglectful of his friendships lately. So wrapped up in his and Shepard’s world, he forgot that he had one amazing group of friends—friends that never judged, only offered mild concern and a boat load of support. He’d pushed them away, whether he intended to or not, but they hadn’t strayed far.

 And neither had he.

 Sitting down next to Tali, he looked over the board, noting that Tali had claimed the dog, Liara the thimble, and Ashley the car. That left him with the top-hat. As usual.

 “So—does this obvious distraction come with alcohol?” he asked.

 Tali slid a tumbler and a bottle of his favourite whiskey over to him.

 Definitely the best friends ever.

XX

 A few glasses of whiskey and takeaway sushi sat in Kaidan’s gut comfortably, warming him from head to toe as he sat curled up in his favourite chair. The skyline of Vancouver was bright and lively, lights from other apartments and the street twinkling in his view.

 From up here, secluded in his apartment with Liara and Tali watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer while Ashley made popcorn, Kaidan felt like he could finally process everything that had happened.

 Shepard had been shot—twice—in an obvious gang warfare situation. Kaidan wasn’t sure if Shepard had been caught in the crosshairs or had been actively involved, but in the end the whiskey made Kaidan feel like it didn’t matter. His father had obviously been called to the scene, and from there…

 Well, that’s when Kaidan arrived.

 Kaidan didn’t know what was going to happen now. Shepard couldn’t go back to the life he had before—Kaidan wouldn’t let him. It was too dangerous and this just proved every concern Kaidan had had before. Shepard had always gone on about how the streets would kill him; that Vancouver would swallow him whole. He’d always said it, but a part of Kaidan didn’t believe it, or maybe didn’t want to believe it.

 But reality had smacked them both hard in the face, and there was no turning the other cheek.

 Shepard needed out, and Kaidan was going to do his best to show him the path on which to do that.

 “I think I’m going to take a leave of absence from my degree,” he said to no one in particular.

 Liara paused the show in the middle of an emotional scene and turned toward him.

 “Are you sure? That will set you back a semester.”

 Kaidan shrugged. “I need the break—the time—to get things… settled.”

 “Is this because of Shepard?” Tali asked, accepting a bowl of popcorn from Ashley.

 “What happened to him, anyways?” Ashely plopped herself down onto the couch next to Liara, feet kicked out on to the table. It reminded Kaidan a little bit of Shepard.

 “Ashley, that isn’t for us to know if Kaidan doesn’t—” Liara began, but Kaidan waved her off.

 He was buzzed enough he figured he could get through it alright.

 “Shepard was shot—twice.”

 “Jesus,” Ashley mumbled.

 Liara paled slightly and Tali’s eyes went wide, mouth open with a kernel of popcorn making a valiant attempt at escaping.

 “He’s alright—or will be alright,” Kaidan added, “but he’s going to need someone to look out for him after this and… and I want to be that someone.”

 “Are you sure about this?” Liara asked. Kaidan could hear the misguided concern leaking into her voice again, brows furrowed as she muddled through her feelings on the matter. Liara had never really liked Shepard, concerned about his reputation and the strife his relationship had caused in Kaidan’s life.

 But Kaidan didn’t care. He was done padding the truth and making Shepard’s life more palatable for those around him—he was done making Shepard more palatable. Shepard didn’t need to be excused for the comfort of those around him.

 “I’m sure. I just… I need a break. My health has been of concern, I’m not putting what I need into the work at the lab, Mordin has been subtly suggesting I take a break anyways, and Shepard… Shepard needs me. And I need him, you know?”

 There was silence for a time, Ashley munching away at her popcorn and nodding along, Tali sipping her juice and fiddling with the straw, while Liara just looked at Kaidan with her big, blue eyes that reminded Kaidan a little of Shepard.

 “I think you’re making the right decision,” Liara finally said. “If you’re feeling unwell, and Shepard needs your help… I think this is for the best. I trust you to know what’s best in your life.”

 “Thanks, Liara,” he said, feeling what she said was genuine.

 “So…” Tali drawled as she swirled her cup around. “Where was he shot exactly?”

 “Tali!” Liara cried out, “that’s not for us to know!”

 “I’m just curious! It’s not every day someone says their boyfriend got shot twice like Fifty Cent.”

 “He was shot nine times,” Ashley interjected.

  Tali huffed. “Well he was shot twice more than anyone here!”

 “You don’t have to tell her, Kaidan,” Liara said, turning to him.

 “Are you saying Shepard’s the new Fifty Cent?” Kaidan asked. He didn’t really want to relay what happened—didn’t want to think about Shepard lying in a hospital bed, alone and probably confused and in pain. Not when he couldn’t be there for him. That was tomorrow’s worry—not tonight’s.

 “No, of course not; Shepard is much more attractive,” she said, grinning.

 “Can he rap?” Ashley asked. “I mean, that’s kind of an important part of all this, yeah?”

 “I dunno—I don’t think so. He once came up with a song about beef and bacon for me.”

 “He probably writes poetry in a scuffed up notebook he keeps in his leather jacket,” Tali said, and Kaidan swore he saw her swoon a little.

 The conversation devolved from there, and for that Kaidan was grateful. But as the night wore on and the insomnia kicked in, Kaidan found his mind wandering to Shepard once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG thank you to Annaraven for her beta work and for being pretty damn fantastic!
> 
> Like I said in the chapter before and the beginning note, this is the last chapter I will personally be posting. My buddy is going to be giving you guys an update in May and one in June while I'm off on an adventure overseas. I'll still be online, but only to check messages, etc. while I'm hopping from country to country.
> 
> Have fun without me, peaches! I'll be back June 24th (ish), and I'll get to replying to reviews when I'm back!


	30. Chapter 30

"I've never had any issues with blood."

Shepard rolled over onto his side and peered across the room at Kaidan. He was fiddling with his tie. Dark red and made of silk it slipped through and around his hands like…

Like blood.

"Not even your own?" he asked, voice too quiet.

Kaidan heard all the same. "It's just blood, Shepard—why would I be afraid of my own?"

Kaidan turned to Shepard, expression impassive. His voice sounded distant as well—like they were speaking across the apartment.

"Because it means you're about to die," he said bluntly.

Kaidan smiled, but his eyes remained distant. "I don't have to worry about that just yet. You, on the other hand…"

He approached the bed and sat down on the edge, his back to Shepard. Shepard wanted to reach out to him but stayed rooted on the spot. He felt a pinching in his chest but ignored it. Instead he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Kaidan chuckled, deep and rich but slightly menacing, too.

"Have you looked at your chest lately? You've been bleeding out all over my bed for the entire night," he explained plainly.

"I don't know how I'm going to clean the sheets," he added.

Shepard didn't dare open his eyes. The pinching in his chest began to hurt and every breath felt laboured, like he'd been locked in a box and told to breathe through a straw. Panic started to set in and yet still he didn't look.

"You've got someone on your chest," Kaidan said mildly as he stood up from the bed.

Shepard opened his eyes and found Aria hovering above, her face covered in blood— _his_ blood—as she squeezed down on his chest with a monstrous grin that twisted her handsome face.

He closed his eyes again; clasped them shut tightly and didn't dare open them. The pain was getting worse—like someone had wormed their fingers into his chest and pressed down on his lung, stealing away his oxygen.

"You're going to feel mild discomfort for a little while, Mr. Shepard, but we ask that you remain calm. Can you do that for me?" Aria asked.

Shepard opened his eyes only to find Aria was gone, replaced with nurses in bright pink and pastel yellow scrubs. The steady beep of the heart monitor replaced the bizarre buzzing noise he'd heard in his dreams, and the mellow light from Kaidan's apartment gave way to bright florescent that shone down on him as he lay in…

A hospital.

He was in a hospital.

The ache in his chest continued, and Shepard found it hard to expand his chest beyond shallow breaths. His throat hurt, every swallow raw and painful, and Shepard was numbly reminded of how it felt to get throat-fucked. There was a throbbing down near his hip—right in the back—but it was dull and muted and less concerning than whatever was pushing in his chest.

He tried to reach for his chest, but one of the nurses stopped his hand, cold fingers wrapped around his wrist preventing him from moving.

"You have a tube in your chest right now," she explained slowly, but despite her speed Shepard found it difficult to understand her. He felt like he was slipping in and out of consciousness, everything slow and muted and dark. "You were shot in the lung, sir, so we need to drain out excess fluid, okay? It will only be in for a few days. Do you understand me?"

Shepard peered up at her.

_What the fuck?_

He just nodded instead, waiting for his brain to catch up.

Shot. He had been… shot.

At the harbour? By Aria?

He remembered going to the harbour; he remembered speaking to Aria; he remembered Patriarch and Wrex, and he remembered…

Pain.

"—he said he would be by tomorrow to see how you are."

Shepard blinked and looked up at the nurse. At some point he'd been given a cup of ice chips, the cold plastic turning his hands pink. He'd taken a few sips, he guessed, because his throat didn't hurt as much as before.

"Was I shot?" he asked, unsure if he'd already asked that. He didn't really care if he had. He couldn't get a hold on what was going on, his mind a jumble of pictures and feelings that slipped out of his hand like smoke anytime he tried to catch them and hold on.

"Yes, you were shot twice," the nurse in pink said.

One of the other nurses grabbed his hand, and he watched with some horror as she fiddled around with the needle that was currently resting inside of him. The pain in his chest was no longer there, but the pressure was still present. An unpleasant reminder that something was wrong.

_No shit, Shepard._

"You've been under heavy anesthesia so it will take a little bit of time to come out of it fully," the pink nurse said as she squeezed his shoulder. "Don't panic that you can't remember everything right away—it will come back slowly."

The nurse in yellow strung a bag up onto the hook next to him, and he watched as she slipped the end of the tube into his IV. There was an empty bag next to him on a tray, and whatever had been in it had long since worked its way through his body.

"Why does it feel like I was throat-fucked?" he asked carefully. He glanced back at the nurse in pink, noting her embarrassment.

"You had a ventilator in for a few hours to help your lung," she explained.

A ventilator. Because he'd been shot. In the lung and…

"Where else was I shot?"

"In your kidney area," she said. "You experienced some trauma to your gut, which means you're on some heavy antibiotics. You shouldn't feel anything because of the morphine, but if you do feel an itch in your arm know that it's perfectly normal, okay?"

Shepard nodded. The haze was starting to leave, everything becoming a little more tangible. Still…

"Where was I shot?" he asked again.

XX

Shepard spent most of the day sleeping. He drifted in and out of consciousness, the nurses waking him every so often to make sure he was still alive and breathing. His memory of what happened trickled in hour by hour until he remembered the meeting on the dock and the flash of metal in the early morning light. But it was all jumbled and hazy. He remembered multiple shots—a quick bang, bang, bang—but who shot and when? He couldn't be sure.

All he knew was waking up in the hospital with a vague sense of dread.

He knew he'd been shot and that Aria was there. A part of him wanted to tell the nurses they'd wasted their time; he was a dead man walking. Aria wasn't going to just let him go after this. He was the snitch in her mind, and nothing short of death would appease her. All she cared about was revenge on her terms, and so long as Shepard was living and breathing, she'd see to it that he suffered.

_Don't fuck with Aria…_

When he wasn't trying to string the fragments of his memory together, or relax enough to piss in his catheter, Shepard lay on his bed flat on his back and slept until the sun came up and the nurses began their rounds.

Along with the police.

There was a knock at the door and Shepard didn't even have time to say 'come in' or 'fuck off' before two familiar faces sauntered in with their wrinkled suits and tired eyes.

"Shepard," Detective Mills said, nodding her head at him.

"We hope we aren't intruding," Donnelly said. "We just need to ask you a few questions about what happened yesterday."

"Thought you two were homicide," Shepard mumbled. "Hate to disappoint but I'm not dead."

_Yet._

Donnelly and Mills exchanged glances before Mills dropped a file on Shepard's bedside table and pulled out a photograph. It was of Patriarch lying on the cement, blood pooled around his head, staining his grey hairs as glassy brown eyes stared out at nothing.

Then it wasn't Aria who had shot. It was someone else.

It was Blood Pack.

"He was killed yesterday during the shooting," Mills said.

Shepard had liked Patriarch. He minded his own business and only did what needed doing. He bragged and told exaggerated stories, but Shepard enjoyed those too. It was a shame to see him go down like that; undignified and without glory. Of all the guys Shepard expected to retire from the crime world, it would have been him. Instead he died bleeding on the streets of Vancouver like everyone else.

"Shame," Shepard said, and he meant it.

"What were you doing out on the docks?" Mills asked. She put the photograph away but remained standing, arms crossed over her chest.

Donnelly pulled up a chair and took a seat, phone resting on the palm of his hand, the audio recorder on.

It would have been easy to tell them the truth. He could rat Aria out—be the snitch she thought he was and maybe buy himself a few weeks of life before she came back at him. If he told them he'd been sent out there to die, maybe the police could protect him for a little while. Maybe. If they really wanted to.

But Shepard wasn't a snitch. Omega may have abandoned him, but he wasn't about to go against everything he stood for by ratting them out. He had integrity, even if it was misplaced.

Shepard paused.

"I was there meeting my boss," he said. Shifting on the bed, he winced as the tube in his chest wiggled around. Relaxing, he took the time to decide his course of action. He'd skirt the truth but tell them what they needed to know—he'd tell them what he remembered.

"What were you meeting about?" Mills asked.

"Just to discuss work shit—sensitive things that no one else needed to hear," he explained. "We were standing at the end of the docks—Aria, Wrex, Patriarch and I, when… I guess someone showed up. Must have been Blood Pack."

"How do you know that?" Donnelly inquired.

"Because they're the only ones dumb enough to use a handgun in Canada," Shepard replied blankly.

"What happened after that?"

"I got shot."

"And?"

"I passed out because I was bleeding everywhere."

Mills sighed and pursed her lips. "Did you see the man who shot you?"

Shepard shrugged. "Might have. Don't remember him, though."

"Is there any reason Blood Pack would have been looking for revenge?" Donnelly asked, obviously trying to defuse the situation. Shepard didn't like Mills, her attack dog style of interrogation a method that didn't work on him anymore. He didn't give a shit about her threats or intimidation tactics. He'd seen and heard it all from other officers before.

"We've been at war with them for a while now," Shepard said. "Any excuse to fuck with us and they'll take it."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with the body that showed up on the streets a couple weeks ago, would it?" Mills asked.

Shepard sighed, ignoring the pinching in his chest. "I have no idea. You're the detectives—why don't you tell me?"

Mills sighed as well—heavy and so fucking annoying—before she put her hands on his hips and glared at him. "I have two dead bodies already, Shepard, all because of your stupid, petty little wars between your gangs. I don't need you jerking me around like this," Mills said. "Now tell me what you know."

"I don't know shit," Shepard said, a flush of anger rising up. He could hear his heart monitor picking up speed behind the throbbing of blood in his ears, but it did little to reign him in. This was so typical for the police. They just waltzed in demanding answers, acting as if it was an inconvenience for them—like all they could think about was the paperwork a dead body had caused. They only cared when the bodies started piling up; they didn't give a shit about the people involved. They didn't give a shit about the men and women who joined gangs and killed for them because they had nowhere else to go and no one else to turn to.

They didn't care about him or Patriarch. They just cared about results.

"I was shot, okay? And according to the doctors, I almost didn't fucking make it. So you can fuck off with your whole spiel about how you've got two dead bodies and the mayor breathing down your fucking neck. I've got two bullet wounds, a bunch of needles jabbed in me, and your fucking voice screaming at me right now, so you can j-just.. you can just fuck off… just..."

Shepard felt like he was going to faint. His vision started to narrow and it became hard to breathe. His limbs felt heavy and disconnected from his body, and a chill crept across his skin. Black tendrils in the corner of his eyes began to creep further into his field of vision before everything went dark. He was numbly aware that a doctor had entered his room, his voice low and unintelligible but oddly panicked. Hands pressed down on his chest, an insistent pressure that should have hurt more than it did.

The last thing Shepard heard was his heart monitor screaming in the distance, and the dreaded knowledge that maybe he'd just fucked himself over yet again.

XX

When Shepard woke he was surprised by three things.

First, he hadn't actually died. According to the nurses he'd gone into cardiac arrest, but they brought him back from the brink just in time for lunch.

The second was that the police had been kicked out of the hospital for an indeterminate amount of time.

And the third surprise came in the form of a visitor.

"A visitor?" he repeated. Only Omega would know he was in the hospital, and he knew for certain no one would be poking their head in for a long while—not until the police stopped sniffing around and almost killing their key witnesses.

His nurse nodded and passed him another cup filled with ice. It was the only thing he could keep down, his body too busy with other things like not dying to concern itself with digesting solid foods. Sipping the water through the straw, he bit back the nausea that swirled around his head as the cocktail of drugs worked its way through his system.

She left without telling him who, and he sat impatiently, waiting for Anderson or another cop to stroll in.

Instead a giant smiley-face balloon and a bouquet of flowers did.

"What the fuck is—" Shepard croaked, but stopped when Kaidan's face appeared from behind the giant sunflower.

Shepard had tried not to think about Kaidan. He had other things to dwell on so he hadn't dared think about seeing him—didn't dare hold out _hope_ that he would. He had said his goodbyes—kissed him with the knowledge that this was it; that Kaidan was going to be free of his world once and for all.

Seeing Kaidan felt like a blessing and a curse; it had been torture to say goodbye to him the first time—it would be the death of him a second time.

But he couldn't help but feel absolute relief when they locked eyes, Kaidan's warm, whiskey hues filling him with warmth after feeling so cold for so long. A part of him thought maybe he was dreaming him up— that he was still dying, crashing down back into that darkness once and for all, his body giving him one last gift: the sight of the love of his life.

But the twinging in his chest and the soreness in his back told him that this was all real.

Kaidan was real.

"Kaidan," he whispered.

"Hey, John," Kaidan said, his voice tight. He put the gifts on the dresser in the corner of the room before he approached the bed, hands at his sides as if he were afraid to touch Shepard. He looked so goddamn afraid, and all Shepard wanted to do was make Kaidan feel better—to make him smile and laugh. So he reached out instead, ignoring the tug of the IV in his hand, and pulled Kaidan closer by his belt.

Kaidan was looking at him like he thought he was going to slip away from him at any moment—get up like a ghost and walk out of the room. Shepard suspected he looked much the same, still not believing that he was really here with him.

Slipping his hand around as soon as Kaidan was close enough, Shepard cupped his ass gently in his hand, holding back a choked sob as Kaidan broke out into tearful laughter.

Suddenly Shepard felt like he wasn't drowning anymore. He'd found his rock in the middle of the storm.

"Hey," Kaidan said again. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Shepard's temple. He rested his hand on Shepard's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Tilting his head to the side, Shepard closed his eyes and breathed in Kaidan's scent.

"Hey," he repeated.

He felt another kiss and the unsteady exhale of breath against his temple. Kaidan didn't move for some time, just stayed hunched over Shepard, Shepard basking in his presence, the pain and anxiety lifting away the longer Kaidan stayed near.

Eventually he pulled away, and Shepard raised his hand to Kaidan's cheek, brushing away the tears.

"Pansy," he mumbled fondly.

Kaidan chuckled again and brushed the rest of the tears away. "Sorry—can't help it."

He pulled up a chair and sat as close to Shepard as he could. Taking his hand in his own, he rubbed the tattoo and stared at Shepard like he couldn't believe he was really there with him. Shepard couldn't believe it, either.

"How did you find out I was here?" he asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Kaidan said.

"I've had an unbelievable couple of days," Shepard mumbled. "Try me."

Kaidan sighed and kissed Shepard's knuckles. Keeping his hand close to his mouth, Kaidan rubbed his stubbled chin across Shepard's fingers. "My father was a first responder. He came and got me after… after everything."

Of course his father would have known.

"He brought you here? To see me?" Kaidan was right—Shepard didn't believe it.

"Y-yeah. He even got me access to see you in ICU. Only family can come and visit so… I guess we're married for the next couple of weeks. Kind of like when we went to Banff."

Shepard noted the ring on Kaidan's finger. It seemed a lifetime ago that he gave it to him. It was just two days ago…

Almost a lifetime then.

"You scared the shit out of me," Kaidan whispered. "I woke up to find you gone and my father at my door telling me… telling me you had been shot. And that there was a chance you weren't going to make it."

"I'm sorry," Shepard said. He wasn't sure what else he could say to dispel the fear he heard in Kaidan's voice.

Kaidan sighed and brushed away the tears that threatened to fall again. Clearing his throat he straightened up slightly, hands still wrapped tightly around Shepard's own. "Promise me you won't do that again—scare me like this again."

Shepard couldn't make that promise. Not when Aria was still gunning for him. Not when he was still on a hit list. He swallowed back his own fear and instead focused on the balloon as it wobbled away under the heating vent.

"A balloon?" he asked, smiling tightly.

Kaidan glanced over his shoulder, an embarrassed laugh slipping past. Turning back to Shepard he smiled, cheeks pink. "Sorry—I kind of panicked when I went to the shop downstairs."

Leaning to the side he picked up a bag Shepard hadn't noticed before and started rummaging through it, pulling out an iPad, a pillowcase, and a small stuffed teddy bear that had seen better days. He presented Shepard with the iPad first.

"I've loaded it up with a bunch of your favourite movies and shows," he explained. "I know you've got cable here but I figured you'd want to watch your own stuff. And here—a pillowcase from home."

Shepard accepted the pillowcase—bright yellow and smelling of Kaidan's laundry detergent.

"When I was in the hospital as a kid my parents would bring me sheets from home. It made things a little more… manageable, you know? Something familiar," Kaidan said.

Shepard brought the pillowcase to his nose and breathed in the scent, rubbing the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

"I already feel better," Shepard said. "And the teddy bear?"

It was well worn and obviously well loved. Its brown fur had worn away on his stomach and feet, and one of his eyes had been replaced with another button—brown instead of black. There were repairs at the seams and Shepard noted his ear had come off at some point only to be stitched back on with loving care.

"This was my childhood toy," Kaidan began. "I mean, one of many. But this little guy kept me company when I was in the hospital. I thought maybe he could do the same for you."

Shepard took the bear and held him with care. He was heavier than Shepard had expected, and his fur was coarse but still soft to the touch.

"He have a name?" Shepard asked, throat tight from emotion. No one had ever done something like this for him. No one had cared enough to. He'd been in the hospital before but only Jack had come to see him. She was as poor and as emotionally stunted as he was, so the only thing she ever brought was bowls of pilfered pudding from the cafeteria.

Not that Shepard was complaining about free pudding.

"Sam, after one of the characters from the Lord of the Rings," Kaidan answered.

"From the movies?"

"Uh, actually from the books, but the movies works too."

Shepard smiled and tucked 'Sam' next to him on the bed.

"Come here," he said, tugging Kaidan closer with his hand.

Kaidan stood and leaned in for a kiss—simple and pure and so goddamn needed. Shepard relaxed as their lips touched, and for just a moment he forgot about everything else; his injuries and his brush with death; Aria's threats and the knowledge that this wasn't over yet, and the fact that he was pissing through a tube into a sack on the side of his bed.

None of that mattered. All that mattered was Kaidan was here, with him, reminding him he had something worth fighting for beyond pure rage and stubbornness. He wasn't sure it would be enough, but the anxiety was gone for now, and Shepard could relish the fact that he was alive—still kicking and screaming and making himself known despite the rest of the world trying to get him to shut the fuck up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Annaraven for the beta work!


	31. Chapter 31

It didn't take long for Kaidan to become familiar with being back in a hospital. Years of conditioning had made the transition from the outside world to the medical world easy. It was troubling to Kaidan. He didn't like the fact that everything that had caused him so much agony as a child was 'old hat'—that the pain the hospital sucked up and held onto in its walls and its people could be easily ignored. He hated that the things he saw between the cracks in the doors and hidden away behind curtains didn't make him flinch, didn't make his heart pulse with sympathy, didn't made him shy away like he should have.

He'd seen it all before—experienced more than half of it himself.

Kaidan had spent the last week in the ICU with Shepard every chance he could get. As he sat beside Shepard's bed, listening to the gentle beep of his heart monitor and watching the slow drip of the IV, the apathy of sickness crept into him. Kaidan didn't care about anyone but Shepard. He wouldn't let himself care about the woman two doors down who wailed when she was moved; he wouldn't let himself be disturbed by the frantic beeping of a failing heart; he couldn't let himself care.

If he did he'd be that little boy all over again. Afraid and exhausted and cold, he'd listen to the other children around him die from the same disease he had—hear their last shuddering breath down the corridor as their parents wept with open grief over the body of their child. A child Kaidan had probably played with just a few days ago when he'd been feeling well enough to visit the lobby.

He couldn't be in that state again—couldn't feel that pain and uncertainty. Not when Shepard needed him.

So he pushed it all aside and concentrated on Shepard—on the way the colour slowly returned to his cheeks, and how his grip became firmer every time they hugged. He concentrated on Shepard's smile when he walked in the doorway during the start of visiting hours, and held on to his goodbye kiss when he had to leave in the evening. He concentrated on the rumble of his voice and the steadiness of his breath; the touch of his lips and the rub of his hair across the palm of his hand—a few millimetres longer every day— and he concentrated on Shepard's health and recovery.

He concentrated on Shepard, pushing aside everything to focus on him entirely.

Perhaps not the healthiest approach, but Kaidan had to pick up a few bad habits from Shepard eventually. Repression of 'deep shit' seemed a good option.

Shepard didn't have to stay in the ICU for long. The minimum of a week turned into just that—a week—before Shepard was carted down to a new room three floors down. It was busier and louder, nurses and doctors walking past frequently, followed by loud friends and family members come to see their loved ones after their ingrown toenail surgery.

It steadied Kaidan. It made him feel less on edge, the sounds easier to deal with and the florescent lighting less intrusive. There was a feeling of life.

But it set Shepard more on edge.

"Shepard?"

Shepard's gaze went from the doorway to Edi, brow quirked. "What?"

"I believe it is your turn," she said, pointing to the deck of cards in front of him. "Do you wish to go fishing, or ask one of us for a card?"

Kaidan tapped his finger against the back of his cards, watching the exchange with mild curiosity. Edi had been the first to come and visit Shepard once his visiting hours were cleared, and Kaidan had warned her that Shepard was… distant, to say the least. She didn't believe him—not until now, it seemed.

"Oh, uh… Kaidan—do you have a two?"

Kaidan shook his head. "Go fish."

Shepard did as instructed, wincing only slightly as the IV in his hand tugged at the tender skin. They'd started weaning him off of the morphine a few days ago, downgrading his medication to something a little less addictive but also less effective. Shepard complained the first day. It was a good sign that he was recovering if he found the time to literally pout at the nurses.

They played a few more rounds with Shepard's undivided attention before he began to wander again. Kaidan caught it first—the slight furrowing of his brow and an intense stare at the deck of cards—before Edi noticed when he began looking over her shoulder instead of at her.

"I forgot I bought a gift!" she declared all of a sudden. Putting her cards down on the table over Shepard's lap, she slipped off the foot of the bed and straightened her skirt.

"A gift?" Shepard said, trying not to sound too interested.

"Yes—from all of us at Palaven. I forgot it in the car, though. Kaidan, would you come with me? I do not think I will be able to find my way back without some assistance."

It was a boldface lie and everyone knew it. She wanted to talk to Kaidan. She had that look about her—that tense smile that told him if he said no he'd be in a world of trouble later. Liara had a knack for it as well.

"Uh, sure." Standing, he dropped his cards down on top of Edi's. Leaning forward, he kissed Shepard quickly. "I'll be right back."

"I'm not going anywhere," Shepard said, stealing another quick kiss before Kaidan pulled away.

Following Edi out of the hospital room, Kaidan shoved his hands in his jean pockets and straightened his back, the cartilage in his spine making a satisfying snap, crackle, and pop as he did so. He'd been hunched over Shepard's bed for the last week and a half, and when he wasn't doing that he was hovering over paperwork that would pull him from the Doctorate programme for a six month stint.

He hadn't told Shepard that he had pulled out yet. He hadn't even told him of his plans to take care of him.

He wasn't quite sure why not. Fear that Shepard wouldn't agree? Frustration because he knew he'd have to convince him? Anxiety because he knew his parents would disapprove?

Yet another thing he'd neglected. His parents.

"Forgive me for prying…" Edi began when they stepped into the elevator, "but you seem very tired. Is everything alright?"

My partner was shot twice and almost died, I've had a migraine for the last two weeks, my parents want to see me but I'm not sure I want to see them, and they stopped serving my favourite drink at Starbucks. But other than that…

He just shrugged.

"Is there anything I can do?" Edi asked, "anything at all?"

He glanced over at her. She was standing tall—taller than he was—in a bright yellow dress, orange framed glasses resting on her long, straight nose, bright blue eyes blinking back at him through the glass. Her hair was perfectly styled and cut, makeup finely applied, and not a wrinkle was visible on her cardigan. She looked like a statue—a pillar of strength in a sea of haggard, tired people.

Kaidan felt like a slob next to her, his flannel shirt wrinkled, his jeans baggy, and his hair mess from a hurried shower and no hair gel.

Shepard had once told Kaidan while lying in bed, half asleep and his breath smelling of beer, that if he were straight he'd have married Edi. He'd have swept her off her feet and whisked her away to be his. Kaidan had felt a pang of jealousy then, despite the fact that he knew Shepard loved him just as much if not more. But back then he didn't understand why Shepard would feel that way. Sure, Edi was gorgeous, but beyond that?

He got it now, though. Seeing Edi standing next to him, proud and strong and so goddamn sympathetic without being patronizing, Kaidan got it. She'd moved to a new country, married a man who was chronically ill with numerous physical disabilities, and helped to run a bar which was by no means a money maker, all with a smile on her face and an enthusiasm and curiosity about the world. She stood next to Kaidan with her own reality weighing heavily on her shoulders, wearing a neatly ironed cardigan and carrying a small purse with a meager allowance inside, asking Kaidan if there was anything she could do.

Kaidan was beginning to think he got Shepard's adoration now.

The jealousy was still there, though. Just a little bit—not enough to cause him pain, but enough for him to slouch a little more when he saw just how differently they handled their respective situations.

"That's kind of you to ask, Edi, but I think we're okay. Maybe when he's out of the hospital you and Joker could… I dunno, come by and celebrate with us? I'm sure Shepard would love to have you over."

She nodded and stepped out of the elevator once they reached the ground floor. He led her to the parkade, the two walking in silence. Stopping behind Edi's car, she opened the back hatch and began rummaging through the collection of bags and boxes in the trunk while Kaidan tried his hardest not to check out his boyfriend's best friend's ass.

Righting herself, she presented Kaidan with a bottle of his favourite whiskey.

"Hey, thanks," he said, taking it from her. "I'm sure Shepard will enjoy this when he's out."

"That is for you," she said matter-of-factly. She left Kaidan to mull over the kind gesture and returned to the trunk. Grunting, she hefted a large basket laden with goods and passed it to Kaidan. It was as heavy as Kaidan suspected it would be, and he tried not to wheeze as the weight of the basket sunk into his arms and nestled its way into his lower back.

Shutting the trunk, Edi took the basket back despite Kaidan's protests, and dumped it onto the closed hatch. Brushing herself off, she pulled a strand of hair out of her lip gloss and turned to Kaidan.

"I believe Shepard is troubled," she said.

Kaidan rolled his shoulder, holding back a wince. Edi picked the basket up like it was nothing.

"Yeah, I told you he was distracted. I don't know what's going on, though. Maybe he thinks Blood Pack will come and finish him off?"

Plus the police had begun sniffing around again. The nursing staff could only hold off the interrogation for so long, and no one wanted to repeat the cardiac arrest incident from last week. Kaidan was all for the rule of law, but he wasn't about to see Shepard suffer at the hands of said law. The police could wait for a change.

"It is something else," Edi said. "Blood Pack would not come into a hospital to kill a man. They would not be allowed in, first of all, and I do not believe they are smart enough to pull off a stealth assassination."

Kaidan nodded and leaned against the back of the car. He took a peek in the basket, noting the collection of Dutch chocolate and sweets, mixed in with anti-smoking pamphlets and nicotine gum.

"Alright, fair enough. I guess… he has been under a lot of stress lately, what with being shot and almost dying. And he's always been a little, uh… twitchy. Maybe we're just reading too much into it."

Edi didn't look particularly convinced. Kaidan didn't feel too convinced, either.

"Has he mentioned Omega at any point?" she asked. She was staring off into the distance, but he could tell she was thinking deeply.

"No, not really."

"And have any of his friends from the gang come to see him?"

"Not that I'm aware…" Kaidan said slowly. Now that Edi mentioned it, it did seem odd that no one from Omega had come to see him—not even Jack.

"What are you getting at?" he asked, pushing himself off from the car.

"I believe there was a rift between Shepard and his gang," Edi said. Blinking, she turned to look at Kaidan. "He came to the bar a few days before the incident and he seemed… different."

"Different how?"

"Like he knew he was going to die."

Kaidan swallowed back the uneasy feeling that she was right. Everything before the attack on Shepard had been a blur—out of contrast and disjointed, where days melded into hours and the sequence of events seemed out of sorts. But Shepard coming into his apartment, soaked to the bone and weeping… that didn't leave Kaidan. It stayed as fresh as if it had happened just an hour ago. At the time he had struck Kaidan as odd. He had thought—or maybe convinced himself—that Shepard had been drinking, trying to work up the nerve to give Kaidan the ring and in the process gotten himself drunk.

He hadn't thought he'd been listening to Shepard's last confessions before he…

Before he went to die.

"You don't… you don't think…" Kaidan cleared his throat, finding it hard to form the words. "You don't think Aria tried to have him killed, do you?"

"I do not know for certain," Edi said, voice barely above a whisper, "but I do know that he is concerned about something. And there were rumbles in the Eastside for a while. And so I think that something—"

"Is Omega…"

"This is all just conjecture," she said, as if to talk herself out of the notion that Shepard had known he was going to die.

And he hadn't told anyone…

Not even you, Kaidan.

"He's not going back there," Kaidan said, an anger welling up inside him. He didn't care if Aria was guilty or not—she wasn't getting her hands on him again. Kaidan would make sure of it. He'd lock her up himself if it meant getting Shepard away from her and Omega, and the streets that wanted him dead.

"Good."

He cleared his throat and chanced a glance at Edi. Her arms were crossed over her chest, lips pulled in tight, with a flush to her cheeks. She looked just as angry as he felt.

"I might need some help convincing him to move in with me. And that he can get out of the gang if he just asks the police for help."

"The first will be the easy part, I fear," Edi said. She smiled slightly then, and picked up the basket of treats—all without grunting or wheezing. "But I will do my best. Maybe we could set up a demonstration with the police, with Power Points and movies showing the bad side of gang life."

"I uh… I think we're past that point," Kaidan said, slightly bemused.

"Really? I heard it's very effective," she replied as they strolled back to the elevator.

"Yeah, well… once you're a case study in why not to join gangs, I feel like a video just won't cut it."

"Ah, fair enough… but what about the Power Point?"

XX

"How's the pudding?"

"Heaven."

Kaidan watched as Shepard scraped the side of his pudding cup, getting all of the chocolate covered sugar that he could. He'd recently been put back on solid foods, his intestines 'back online' as one of the nurses put it, and had gone straight for all of the pudding and jello he could get his hands on.

Looking at the rest of his plate, Kaidan wasn't surprised.

His dinner consisted of a bizarre mess of green, orange, white, and greyish brown all congealed on the plate. There were limited spices and the food was all ground up to make it easier on Shepard's guts, but both suspected that the food presented would upset even the healthiest of stomachs.

"You think you can sneak me in a burger or something?" Shepard said, putting his cup down next to his glass of water. He drank that next—small sips interspersed with burps.

"I wish I could," Kaidan said. "When you're out we'll go straight to your favourite burger place."

Standing, he picked up Shepard's fork and poked the gelatinous mass on the tray, watching it literally wobble. Dropping the fork he sat on the edge of Shepard's bed, accepting Shepard's half-hearted backrub as he dragged his hand up and down his back roughly.

"How much longer until I'm out?" Shepard asked after a time.

"Couple more weeks. Then you've got your daily physio and multiple follow-ups… proceeded by yearly visits, a few overnight stays…" he looked over his shoulder at Shepard. "More, if you keep smoking."

Shepard frowned but didn't stop rubbing Kaidan's back.

They sat in silence for some time. Shepard continued to drag his fingers along Kaidan's spine, goosebumps spreading out across his skin with each brush. Closing his eyes, Kaidan blocked out the bright lights and pushed back the impending migraine, and instead concentrated on Shepard's soothing touch.

This is nice. Nice and soothing and well earned. Enjoy the small moments, Kaidan. Enjoy them and don't ruin them by—

"Hey, John?" Kaidan turned around, Shepard's hand dropping from his back.

"Yeah?"

"How much do you remember of the day you were attacked?" he asked, internally wincing even as he asked it. He should have just let sleeping dogs lie.

Shepard shrugged with his good shoulder and pushed away the dinner tray and table. "Enough. Why?"

"I'm just… I'm just curious about what happened."

Shepard's eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to the side. "You're not asking for your dad, are you?"

Kaidan bit back the swell of annoyance and swallowed it whole.

"This has nothing to do with my father or the cops," he said. "I haven't even spoken to my dad since… well, since the day you got shot."

Shepard's brows rose. "Really? I thought your dad wanted to make things up with you and—" "

"John. This isn't about me and my dad. This is about what happened that morning."

Shepard looked down on his lap, jaw flexing slightly. There was that distance again—that look of mild anxiety in his eyes that he tried to hide but Kaidan could see. Shepard couldn't hide how he was feeling from Kaidan—not anymore. They'd been intimate long enough for Kaidan to know his ticks.

"Why do you want to know?" Shepard asked after a time. He looked back up at Kaidan, eyes bright.

"I just… I want to know what happened so I can… so I can help you. So I know what you went through and I can… I can help you."

It was true. Kaidan just wanted to help.

Shepard sighed, breath catching at the end. Touching his pec, he rubbed the bandage gently. For a little while he didn't say anything, and Kaidan thought maybe he was getting the silent treatment, when Shepard locked eyes with him and told him what Kaidan had to assume was the whole story.

Omega was meeting to discuss business when a Blood Pack member arrived. He yelled about needing revenge for something, fired his gun six, maybe seven times, before running. Then he remembered a pinching in his chest and how hard it was to breathe, before he passed out in the arms of Aria.

That was it.

Exactly what Kaidan had heard before.

"And that about sums it up," Shepard said. Reaching for his water, he swallowed a large mouthful, brushing the back of his hand against his mouth.

"And you don't remember anything else? Like why you were meeting Aria?"

Shepard shook his head. "Nope."

Kaidan didn't get it. Why was he protecting Aria? Regardless of whether she intended to kill him or not—something Kaidan was pretty damn certain she was going to do, but lacked the proof for it—she didn't deserve his loyalty. She couldn't protect Shepard; not like he needed.

She couldn't help him.

But Kaidan could.

Slipping off the bed Kaidan sat back down in his chair, the seat becoming all too familiar with the shape of his ass. Pressing the tips of his fingers into a steeple, he sat forward, mulling over how best to approach Shepard about moving in. Press too much and he'd instinctually push back, stubborn and far too independent for his own good. If he was too accommodating then Shepard would work out a reason why it was a bad idea. But convince him it was something they both wanted…

"You okay, K?"

Kaidan looked up from the floor. "Huh?"

"You're looking a little weird right now," Shepard said, chuckling nervously. "Getting a migraine?"

"No. Well, I mean, yeah, but I was just thinking about what would happen if I asked you to move in with me," he said slowly.

Shepard looked at Kaidan like he'd just grown a third eye.

"I mean, I think it would be pretty nice," he continued, hoping if he talked about all the positives of living together then Shepard would be swayed. "You're always over at my place anyways, so this would just save you a trip every morning. We could share the living space and bedroom, but I've got a spare room that could be yours for, you know… whatever you want. Like an office or a… an office. And we could see each other every morning and have breakfast together—start the day off right. A-And it'd be easier for me, you see, for when you get out of the hospital. I can take care of you while you recover but… you know. We'd be at my place. Or our place, I guess."

He smiled tightly.

Shepard was still staring at him. Eventually he blinked.

"Uh… you could say something now," Kaidan mumbled, feeling increasingly like he was going to throw up.

Shepard put his cup down on his bedside table and turned back to Kaidan.

"Kaidan… I can't afford to stay at your place."

"But I own the apartment," he explained. "You wouldn't have to pay anything."

"So I'd just be your charity case? I'd live off your money and not contribute?"

Kaidan didn't get it. He just didn't get why Shepard was so goddamn stubborn about this. Kaidan wasn't treating him like a charity case—he'd treated him like a loved one. Given him small gifts and bought him nice drinks because he wanted to. Because that was what people did for the ones they cared about.

Though Shepard had never had that, had he? Never had money, never had gifts—never been given anything for the sake of niceness. There was always a catch, and always a need for Shepard to prove himself.

But goddamn it, it didn't have to be that way, and Kaidan didn't get why Shepard didn't see that. He was worth it—all of it.

"Then chip in for the grocery bill. And when it comes time to clean the apartment you can help out with that. Just… just let me do something good for you, John. Let me. Please."

And there was that look again. That expression Kaidan had seen time and time again—an expression Shepard wore when he wanted something so badly, but lacked the self-esteem to just take it. Kaidan could practically feel the longing; it burned up in his chest and made his heart squeeze. Kaidan didn't get why he was so hesitant.

"I want you to live with me, John. I want to be with you. Please, just… just say yes?" he asked, voice weaker than he'd have liked.

Shepard sighed, once again catching his breath at the end.

"I'll pay for half the groceries. And if I want anything like clothes or smokes or whatever else, I'm buying it, okay?"

Kaidan couldn't help but laugh, relief bubbling up inside him. He'd been preparing himself for a bigger fight; more resistance or perhaps a catch. But here Shepard was, agreeing for a change and taking what they both knew he wanted. There was still that look in Shepard's eyes, but Kaidan pushed it aside, not wanting to sour his victory by prying Shepard's emotions apart.

Standing, he leaned down and kissed Shepard deeply.

"It's a deal," Kaidan said when they pulled apart. "And I sealed it with a kiss so you can't take it back."

Shepard rolled his eyes, but he was smiling—genuine and carefree—and Kaidan kissed it, wanting to feel that smile in every way he could.

"You've gotta tell Jack she needs to find a new roommate, though," Shepard mumbled into the kiss.

Kaidan lost his smile.

XX

Kaidan stood on the sidewalk leading up to a dark blue door, gripping his book-bag strap like it would keep him steady. There was cool dampness in the late spring air, and it settled itself on the back of his neck. It was nearing dinner time, and Kaidan could see the lights on in the kitchen of the house—warm and inviting, promising a home-cooked meal and muted dinner conversation.

A couple of months ago Kaidan would have gone up the sidewalk with no hesitation, knocked twice on the door before letting himself in, and strolled into the kitchen to steal his dad's cheese bun and his mum's glass of wine.

It was odd to feel so hesitant in the face of home.

You're an adult, Alenko. Deal with this like you deal with everything in your life. Just deal with it. Stop running away.

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his grip on his bag and strode up the sidewalk, stopping in front of the door with only a moment's pause. Knocking twice, he waited.

It only took a moment before the door was thrown open, and Kaidan was greeted with the sight of his father. He was dressed in his favourite flannel, jeans ripped at the knees and covered in paint from one of his many winter projects in the garage. Soft around the edges with a bit of a belly, and lined with wrinkles and laugh lines, Kaidan was once again reminded of his father's age.

He was about Kaidan's age now when he had him, and only a little older when he'd received news of his son's potential early death.

Kaidan had sympathised with his father back then. Now he could empathise. All the pain and uncertainty and helplessness Kaidan had been feeling the last week was ten-fold for his father. And yet he didn't let it break him down; didn't let the anxiety of the unknown stop him in his tracks. He continued on with a strength and dignity that Kaidan could only hope to emulate.

Everything his father had ever done had been for him, even his misguided concern. It was all for Kaidan.

"Kaidan," his father said, surprise evident in his tone.

"Hey, Dad." Swallowing down his emotions, he grabbed the strap tight again and raised his chin. "Before I come in, I just want to say this: John is moving in with me, and we've plans to start a life together—a real life together. If you don't want him to be a part of that I understand, but then you've got to… you've got to let me go, too. Because we're a package deal now. But… but if you can deal with that, then… then I've got a bottle of whiskey in my bag that I thought we could share."

His father didn't say anything for some time. His grip was strong on the door, whiskey brown eyes locking with whiskey brown.

But then he moved. Stepping out of the doorway he ushered Kaidan in with an open arm.

"Mum's making ribs. Perfect for whiskey," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Annaraven for the beta work!


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! Thanks so much for being patient while I was gone. I tried to get through all of the lovely comments you left me, and I hope I got everyone~ Anyways, this is the second last chapter! Can you believe it? I certainly can't. I started working on this fic a little over a year ago after my friend and I watched Pretty Woman and spent half the time cringing at the awkwardness. My bud dared me to write a better poor meets rich love story and thus...
> 
> I'll do a more thoughtful thank you for the last chapter, but just know this: you're all a part of this story. Anyone who read, reviewed/commented, kudosed, and bookmarked. This fic was only possible through your support, enthusiasm, and enjoyment. Thanks for sticking around. You're all incredible.

 Shepard had spent his life _expecting_ a quick end.

 Dangling over the jaws of Vancouver’s massive maw, Shepard watched as those around him fell into the pit, devoured without remorse and left to bleed out on the dirty, filth-infested streets. Drug addiction; gang violence; mental illness; car accidents; suicide, and the very occasional but probably most shocking of all—old age. They all found a way of snapping the rope that kept you dangling, and dropped you right into the vast chasm of death down below.

 Shepard had come close a few times. He’d touched the blackness; sunk his hand into the inky texture and watched as it twisted up his arm and twined itself around his form, curling tighter and tighter until—

 Bright lights and pain became his world once more. He’d be pulled back from the brink; tossed into the harsh brutality of his world again and again, told that he was a fighter and that this wasn’t the end for him.

 But a cat only had so many lives.

And as Shepard sat in his wheelchair, hands gently gliding over the puckered skin of surgery scars, he realized he’d used up all nine of those lives. He was just a dead man walking, and Aria was waiting for the chance to snap the frayed and torn rope that held him up.

 He supposed twenty-five years was a lot longer than most kids he’d grown up with had got.

 For a while Shepard didn’t feel much. Days spent in the hospital were shrouded with a cloud of painkillers and medication, Kaidan’s soothing touch and deep, reassuring voice. But as the drugs wore off and the pain became manageable, Shepard had time to think. And when Shepard began to think, anxiety dug its way into his stomach, spreading out like a sickness and overwhelming all of his senses. When Shepard got anxious he lost control, and when he lost control he lost all his power—he’d spiral and spiral with no one to catch him, knotted up and sick with stress. Stuck in the hospital he had no means of release, and so he continued to tumble until even Kaidan had trouble keeping him present and stable.

 Until even Kaidan’s kiss became nothing of a reprieve from the sickness in his head.

 Shepard spent his days staring at the wall across from his bed, watching the assortment of balloons and flowers sway under the vent up above, paralyzed with the certainty that every promise he’d made, every hope and desire, every word of love and reassurance he’d whispered to Kaidan, would all go unfulfilled. There was no way out of a destiny he’d scrawled for himself against the brick walls of the Eastside; the happily ever after he’d imagined for those brief, exciting moments of stupidity was never going to happen—no matter how much he wanted it. No matter how much he fought for it.

 Those who ran from Omega ended up dead; those who stayed ended up dead—just faster.

 Aria _always_ won.

XX

 “Only a couple more days and then you’ll be out.”

 Shepard rolled his ankles as he sat in his wheelchair, stretching out his muscles like the physiotherapist had told him to do. He wasn’t ready to walk on his own just yet, the doctors fearing he’d pull the stitches that held his guts together, but soon he’d be ready.

  _Soon._

 If he made it to ‘soon’.

 “Yeah,” he mumbled.

 He could hear Kaidan sigh and looked up just in time to see the tail end of an eye-roll. Kaidan had come for his daily visit, a newspaper under one arm and a freshly laundered pillowcase under the other. The smile he shot Shepard was genuine, but Shepard could see the strain in his eyes and the tension in his jaw.

 He was exhausted.

 And Shepard feared he wasn’t helping the situation much.

 “You’re growing a beard?” he asked, trying to make up for his prior rudeness.

 Kaidan shrugged and rubbed his hand along his jaw. “Hadn’t planned on it, but uh… well, been kinda busy.”

 Shepard nodded and reached up to run his hand through his own hair, the bristles slowly becoming longer. He hated it.

 “When I get out, maybe you can help me shave all this off,” he said, grabbing the tips and tugging slightly.

 Kaidan nodded. “Yeah, if you want. Although it might be nice to keep it for a little bit.”

 He smiled—sweet and a little cheeky, and for a brief moment Shepard felt like he could breathe.

 “You like it?” he asked, ducking his head as Kaidan reached over to run his fingers through it. The motion was soothing and calming, and Shepard kept his head down while Kaidan practically petted him.

 “Do you?” Kaidan asked. He dropped his hand, and Shepard lifted his head.

 Shepard could have lied to Kaidan—it was quickly becoming a tradition in their relationship—but Shepard didn’t want to add to the guilt that threatened to rip his chest apart.

 “Not really,” he admitted.

 “Then I’m not a fan, either,” Kaidan said.

 Silence filled the room once again. Shepard’s wandering mind returned, anxiety worming its way into the back of his skull, taking over his train of thought in one fell swoop. How many more of these quiet moments with Kaidan would he get? How much time did he have? Would this be their last time together—sitting apart in a sterile hospital room, the beep of machines and the coughs from the sick trailing through the hallways, punctuating the emotional numbness that wrapped itself around them as they struggled to connect?

  _You were never going to get a happy ending, Shepard. Fucking deal with it._

There were heeled footfalls down the hallway, and Shepard gripped the armrest of his wheelchair, waiting for them to continue past the door like they _always_ did. Any time a woman in heels walked down the hallway Shepard forgot to breathe, but they never stopped at his door. Women with balloons or flowers continued past, not a second glance taken at his door or at him as he stared through the crack waiting for _her_ to arrive.

 It typically took twelve seconds for the women to walk past, and Shepard counted down under his breath, tapping the armrest with his pointer.

_Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five—_

 The click of heels was fast—faster than normal.

  _Four, three—_

 The footfalls stopped outside his door.

 “You want to get some jello from the…” Kaidan began, but trailed off when he looked at Shepard.

 Shepard just stared at the door, vision narrowing as the shadow beneath the crack moved as if to open it. He felt his heart hammering in his chest and the stitches across his breast throbbed with each beat, panic striking him in the head again and again and again. His body screamed out at him to move—to run and never stop until she was dead and gone and he was left standing. But he couldn’t move a muscle, even as the door opened and _she_ stepped in.

 Dark jacket with black slacks, a burgundy red shirt the colour of blood, hair slicked back. Aria looked like she had the day he went to meet with her. She looked like she did the day she was going to kill him.

 The stench of blood and sea water swirled up into Shepard’s senses, panic and fear grabbing him by his spine and shaking him until he couldn’t tell which way was up and which was down into the black pit of the beast. 

_“There’s no need for this kind of small talk. You’ve been one of my best men for a very long time. Despite your transgressions, I don’t want you to suffer.”_

 Memories of that day roiled in Shepard’s head, bits and pieces that had only been fragments coming back in full detail.

_“This is for Blood Pack!”_

Six shots—heavy and thick in the air. Two hitting. One in his chest, one in his gut. Pain and confusion. Aria’s face—milky white and pinched.

 Shepard gripped the chair tighter, breathing hard through his nose. Pain blossomed in his chest as he tried to keep afloat in his emotions, everything crashing over him again and again, the deep pulse of his heart taking over in his head until—

 Aria looked at Kaidan, and the walls came crashing down.

 All Shepard could feel was _anger._

 Anger that Aria had come here—of all places—to finish the job; anger that she had reduced him to a snivelling fucking whipping boy, a boy that would take hit after hit and ask for more because it pleased her; anger that she’d made him live in fear—that she’d made him into a weak, terrified, meek waste of a man who rolled over and let death come, and anger that he’d accepted death when he knew it wasn’t his time.

 It wasn’t his goddamn fucking time.

 But most of all, Shepard felt anger that Aria had shown her fucking face in Kaidan’s presence—that she was looking at him and judging him and tainting him with her blood-soaked hands. Aria could do what she fucking pleased with him, but Kaidan—Kaidan was the final goddamn straw.

 Kaidan stood abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. “Who let you in here?”

 “It’s a hospital and it’s visiting hours. It’s not that complicated,” Aria said.

 She was holding a potted orchid; dark purple and in full bloom. She turned her back to Kaidan, effectively dismissing him, and placed the plant with the rest of the flowers Shepard had received—most of them from Kaidan and Edi. Turning back around Aria approached Shepard’s wheelchair, stopping a short distance away, arms crossed over her chest.

 “We need to talk.”

 “Like hell you are—” Kaidan began.

 “Kaidan,” Shepard interrupted. He had locked eyes with Aria. “You should go.”

 “What? No, Shepard, I’m not leaving you with her.”

 Shepard turned to look at Kaidan, refusing to be swayed by the expression in his eyes. “I need you to go, K. Please.”

_You can’t be here when it happens._

 Kaidan hesitated, hands balled into fists as he looked between Shepard and Aria, fear evident in his eyes. But eventually he nodded and headed to the door.

 “If you need anything you just shout,” he said, before he left the room. The door remained open.

 Shepard knew he hadn’t strayed far, and wasn’t sure if that comforted him or made him more anxious.

 Aria moved then—a subtle twitch of her shoulders—and Shepard’s attention snapped back to her. She opened her mouth to speak first, but Shepard cut her off by standing. He could feel pressure building in his back near the entry point of the bullet, but ignored the subtle tug of the stitches, refusing to kneel before Aria any longer.

 If he was going to die today, he wasn’t going to go down without a fucking fight.

 “You’ve got big fucking balls coming here to finish the job. What are you going to do, eh? Kill me in a fucking hospital? Do you really think you’ve got enough power to just make it look like an accident? Are you really so fucking full of yourself that you think this would just be fucking easy?”

 His knees began to shake but he refused to hold on to anything. Instead he straightened out further, the pinching pain spreading through his back. He felt like a wounded animal, caught in a corner and surrounded by the stench of blood, fear, and death. He tried to rein that feeling in; twist it to his own uses.

 He molded it into fury.

 “You remember what you asked me on the docks? Because I finally do. You asked me what changed—you asked me why I could possibly think I’d have a better life away from you, and from Omega, and from the fucking goddamn streets of the Eastside. I said because I fell in love. But there’s something more to it. Because I’ve had time to think lying in this hospital with two fucking bullets I took for _you_ , and I came to the realization that things didn’t change. _Nothing_ changed. I just woke up and realized that I don’t need you—I never needed you. Everything you gave me, every fucking promise you made me that came with bullshit catches, I achieved by myself. I made me—you didn’t make me. And you can’t fucking take that away, no matter what lies you tell yourself.

 “You’re not as strong as you think you are, Aria. Once people start thinking for themselves you’re going to be in a load of trouble. Because me? I’m not a one-off. I’m not some special case of sudden fucking realization. There are more like me, and they’ll tear you down. You don’t own them—you never owned me. We own you, Aria. We make you who you are, and without us… you’re fucking _nothing_.”

 There were two joys in Shepard’s life—two great sensations that he would never get over. Orgasms, and telling his boss to fuck off.

 There was something so entirely liberating about finally telling Aria how he really felt that Shepard no longer feared whatever she had for him. She had no power over him; she never really had, otherwise he wouldn’t have even thought about getting out from under her heel. He was his own man—always had been—and she could fuck him up however she wanted.

 She’d still never own him.

 Aria just stared at Shepard, ignoring the way his legs shook and the welling up of blood on his shirt from where the stitches had torn. Shepard stayed his ground before it became too much, and he sunk back in his chair, chin still raised.

 “Are you done? Because I’d like to hear myself speak,” Aria finally said.

 “Yeah… yeah, I’m done.”

 “Good,” she said, and then took a seat in Kaidan’s chair.

 She didn’t pull anything out of her purse—no gun or pill capsule or knife. Crossing one leg over the other, she straightened herself out before looking at Shepard with mild annoyance.

 “There is no easy way to say this, so I’ll cut right to the chase: you saved my life, Shepard. And, as much as it pains me to admit it, this puts me in your debt.”

 Shepard stilled.

 “I’d like to get rid of this debt as soon as I can,” she continued, “and so I’ve decided to do an exchange—a life for a life. You saved mine, so I’ll give you back yours.”

 Shepard swallowed the brick in his throat. “What are you… what are you saying?”

 Aria sighed and rolled her eyes. “What I’m saying is that I’m revoking the contract on your life. I’m sparing you, Shepard. There are, of course, conditions. Firstly, you will forget about all of this; Omega, the business, myself— _everything_. If the cops come asking questions fake amnesia or be your usual idiotic self, I don’t care, but as far as you’re concerned, you were never a member of my organization. In addition to this, every person you knew from Omega is dead to you—”

 “But Jack—”

“—they don’t _exist_. If I hear you’ve tried to contact them for any reason, my offer will be off the table and I will not hesitate to finish things. Finally—if I find out you’ve been leaking information to your boy’s father… let’s just say you can expect a visit. So… do we have a deal? Your silence in exchange for my… clemency?”

 Shepard would have been a fool to deny her. She was offering him everything he ever wanted—a way out. A chance to begin again; a chance to forge his own path without the constraints he’d been living under before. All he had to do was sign on the dotted line and he’d be free. He could give Kaidan what he deserved—a life with someone who had a future.

 There was just one thing…

 “You’re just going to let me walk? Even after you thought I was the snitch?” he asked slowly, careful not to rock the boat too much. He had to be subtle; something he had to actually focus on to pull off successfully. Aria didn’t show this level of compassion—she didn’t just forget about snitches, no matter how many bullets they took. There had to be a reason she was doing this, and Shepard _needed_ to know.

 Aria quirked a brow, lips curling slightly—like she couldn’t even remember what he was referring to. But then she relaxed, a smirk replacing the twist in her red-stained lips.

 “Ah yes, the snitch,” she said, locking her fingers over her stomach. “That’s been… dealt with.”

 “So you know it wasn’t me?”

 She just smirked.

 Shepard’s heart was beating frantically in his chest as he tried to muddle out what Aria’s game was—what the catch was. But he couldn’t see one; couldn’t figure out how Aria could possibly benefit from this. One less body to explain? Fewer cops snooping around when his corpse was inevitably found? She just didn’t feel like it anymore?

_Just take it, Shepard. Deal with the consequences later if there are any. Just take the offer—for Kaidan._

_For yourself._

 Shepard extended his hand, and Aria reached across to take it. The shake was brief but firm, and when Aria retracted her hand she stood with the poise and grace he expected from her. Brushing off invisible lint from her trousers, she smiled down at Shepard.

 It felt cold.

 “Congratulations, Shepard. Don’t waste this opportunity.”

 She turned and made move to leave, pausing at the door. She looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with Shepard one last time.

 “Next time you think of Finch, remember that his fate could have been yours.”

 And then she was gone, heels clicking on the laminate floor.

 Countdown from twelve to one…

 Kaidan returned without a second’s pause, hands still balled into fists at his sides like he was ready for a fight. His expression softened when he saw Shepard, fingers relaxing and lips parting. Big, black brows furrowed when his eyes landed on the bloodstain on the front of his shirt.

 “You ripped your stitches,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard looked down and lifted the wet fabric from his chest. He hadn’t felt the rip—didn’t feel the sting even now. He just felt numb; comfortably numb. Breathing in and out carefully, Shepard waited patiently as the world returned—the noises and the bright lights, and the ache in his chest and down his back. He was still trying to figure out how to feel, mind still fixated on the knowledge that he was _free_.

 How was a man supposed to feel when he’d been pardoned just moments before from stepping up to the hangman’s noose?

 “Are you okay, John?” Kaidan asked.

 He knelt down in front of Shepard, breaking Shepard’s back-and-forth musings on the philosophy of Second Chances. Kaidan took his hand away from his shirt, strong fingers wrapping around his own. The ring Shepard had given Kaidan pressing against his knuckles. For the first time in a long time, Shepard felt Kaidan beneath the pads of his fingertips.

 For the first time in a long time, Shepard _felt_.

 “Y-yeah, K… yeah, I think I’m okay.”

XX

 The streets of Vancouver looked a lot different when you towered up above them, surrounded by glass and steel frames, clean sheets and an overwhelming sense of safety. High up above, almost touching the clouds, it was easy to forget reality and its truths; it was easy to forget that there were others who existed in the world, just as scared and frightened as you were about the next day and what it had to offer. It was easy to believe that nothing existed beyond your bubble—that no one had suffered just as you had, that no one feared just as you did, and that no one loved just like you loved.

 It was easy to forget it all when you hadn’t lived it; when you hadn’t come so close to the edge only to be yanked back and placed on a pedestal, high up above the grunge and grime of a city you’d experienced at its worst. But growing up on the streets only to end up here—high above everything and everyone, safe in the knowledge of having another day—changed a man.

 It had certainly changed Shepard.

 Sitting in Kaidan’s apartment—wait, no, _their_ apartment—Shepard struggled with the knowledge that he’d made it out; not only that he’d escaped the short, brutal end he’d always imagined for himself, but that he’d escaped for good. He wasn’t momentarily safe and just waiting for the next fight or the next blow; he was _out_.

 No more running and no more fighting. No more nights spent wondering if he was even going to make it to see the next sunrise in all its cold, revealing glory.

 From here on out, it was just… living, for once. Experiencing the world like he’d thought he’d earned back when he was just a kid; when he hadn’t been beat down so many times he figured what he deserved was the complete opposite of happiness, of safety, and of feeling like he belonged.

 Shepard was out; he was free.

 But not everyone was safe.

 Euphoria lasts for such little time, while guilt could last a lifetime.

 He’d learned of Patriarch’s short and cheap funeral—how it had been hastily put together by Aria and a few others after his family had failed to even show up to identify the body. Aria had always been partial to Patriarch and had paid for it out of her own pocket. Or that was what Shepard had been told.

 Shepard wasn’t sure what to believe of Aria’s “clemency” and “charity” any more. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to spend the energy trying to figure out her motives.

_You’re out, remember? Don’t think about it any more._

It was difficult not to, however, when the only person who’d he’d ever given a damn about was still out there—still one of those faces on the streets so far down below, scrounging up what she could so she could make it to the next day.

 Shepard missed Jack. He dwelled on it to the point of obsession. He’d lie awake in bed next to Kaidan, this weird sense of guilt curling in his gut, keeping him up all night. He’d made it out like they’d always talked about in the darkest of nights when they thought no one was listening.

 But Jack hadn’t. They’d not made it out together like he had promised they would.

XX

_‘Gone out for a bit. Be back soon. – K’_

 Shepard read the sticky-note next to the stack of blueberry pancakes, noting the haste in which it was written. Rolling his wheelchair toward the refrigerator, he gingerly stood and opened it with ease to find the orange juice front and center just waiting for him.

 Kaidan knew him too well.

 Despite Shepard’s distance the last few weeks.

_He’s too good to you, Shepard. Maybe if you got your head out of your ass for a bit, you’d show him some appreciation._

 Shepard grimaced and sat back down with the orange juice in hand. Rolling back to the table, he poked at his pancakes with the tip of his finger, noting the heat still inside them.

 Kaidan couldn’t have been gone long.

 He’d been running errands ever since Shepard came home, an excited buzz about him that Shepard loathed to kill. Instead of telling him about the left-over guilt he felt at leaving Jack, his friends—fuck, everything he had said he’d been loyal to—he played the excited partner. He pretended like what had transpired had never happened; that he wasn’t almost assassinated on a dock, spared only because he’d been standing at the exact place the Blood Pack member’s shitty aim decided the bullets would go.

 Kaidan didn’t know about Shepard’s _other_ brush with death, and Shepard would never tell him. But that meant he didn’t know about the ‘clemency’—about the second chance that came at the cost of losing his family. Because that was what Omega was, in a bizarre, fucked up, slightly Stockholm Effect kind of way. Jack, Wrex, Grunt—hell, even Finch in his own annoying, almost-got-Shepard-killed way—they were all his family, and the only people in the hellhole they called the Eastside who kept him floating for as long as he did.

 But he betrayed them; turned his back when a better offer was placed on the table.

 Kaidan was worth it. He was worth all the guilt and frustration and the gnawing sensation in his gut telling him he was a traitorous bastard. But damn if it didn’t dull the glow of freedom.

 Tucking into his breakfast and making a mental note of doing something nice for Kaidan in the very near future (something that involved steak, whiskey, and a marathon of Lord of the Rings movies), Shepard watched the waves in the harbour push the many yachts back and forth as they struggled against their moorings.

 He could relate.

 There was noise at the front door. Resting his fork on the edge of the plate, Shepard stilled as the door was unlocked and two very familiar voices drifted inside.

 “—probably awake by now.”

 “I’d still be asleep if you hadn’t fucking come early, dude.”

 Kaidan and Jack.

 Shepard stood, ignored the pain in his side, and shuffled toward the hallway, kicking his wheelchair in the process. He didn’t care. Coming around the corner he saw the two of them taking their shoes off, with Jack holding a large Starbucks drink in her hand that Shepard knew she’d made Kaidan buy for her.

 But it was Jack—not just some figment of his imagination. She was wearing one of _his_ tank-tops despite the windy weather, make-up haphazard and so achingly familiar. There wasn’t a scratch on her; no bruises from fights or cut up knuckles from landed hits. She looked healthy—capable and thriving.

 Shepard didn’t know what he expected to see. An emaciated, bruised and battered woman before him? Starved and on the brink of death? He knew that if their roles were reversed he’d have been in that situation; totally and utterly lost without the one person who had always been there in some way. But Jack was different. Jack was more capable than he was—more resilient. She was tough in a way that only she could obtain; never tied down, never prone to overthinking, and not one to do stupid fucking shit because her vagina told her to. She wasn’t Shepard.

 “Jack,” Shepard said, voice sounding disgustingly weak in his own ears.

 It was enough to grab their attention, however. Kaidan smiled when he saw him, but Jack’s face turned a furious shade of red, brows pinching close together as she locked eyes with him.

 “Shepard!” she yelled, dropping her coffee next to Kaidan’s keys on the side table.

 Kaidan was shoved to the side as Jack carved a warpath through the living space and directly toward Shepard. Shepard only had time to brace himself against the wall before Jack was right in his face, grabbing his arm and punching his shoulder repeatedly.

 “You were supposed to tell me when this shit was going on! You were supposed to tell me, you fucking idiot!”

 Shepard took the beatings despite the pain, thankful she’d picked the non-bullet wound shoulder to vent her frustrations on.  Kaidan started making noise behind her, but Shepard waved him off before he touched Jack. He deserved the beatings, but Kaidan certainly did not.

 “I’m sorry,” he said.

 Jack stopped.

 “You’re sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry you almost got killed—twice? Sorry you went off to confront Aria without fucking telling me? Sorry you got shot? Twice? You’re a fucking idiot, Shepard. A fucking idiot, bastard, piece of shit… but you got out.”

 She was smiling at the end.

 “Y-yeah…” Shepard mumbled, trying to hide his own smile—like he thought he wasn’t allowed to be happy about it. “I got out.”

 Neither were ones for physical affection with each other. It had always felt weird and forced, like they were just doing it because that was what siblings were supposed to do. Physical affection had always been subtle between them, like the press of a shoulder or a rough handshake. But Shepard wasn’t surprised when he was dragged into a hug by Jack, her skinny arms holding on to him with so much force he might pop.

 Once again Kaidan made move to interrupt, but Shepard gave him a look with his eyes before wrapping his arms around Jack’s back, crushing her against him.

 “You’ve got horseshoes up your fucking ass, Shepard,” Jack whispered.

 “Yeah, I certainly fucking do.”

 “Which is good, because if you’re gonna die from being an idiot, I want to be there when it happens.”

 Shepard laughed—short and slightly painful—and let Jack go.

 She righted herself quickly and tugged down the hem of her—or his—tank-top before brushing her hand over her head. The moment was done, much to both of their relief.

 “There are pancakes in the kitchen if you want something to eat,” Kaidan said.

 Jack nodded, and gently punched Kaidan’s shoulder. “First coffee and now pancakes—damn, Alenko. You really know how to treat a girl.”

 She slipped into the kitchen, and Shepard found himself gravitating toward Kaidan’s smug little smile.

 “Did you do this?” Shepard asked, pulling Kaidan toward him with his belt loops.

 Kaidan shrugged, hands gently resting on Shepard’s hips. Shepard hurt all over from Jack’s ‘greeting’, but Kaidan’s touch was soothing and comforting.

 “I’d spoken to her a few times when I went to your apartment to get your stuff. Filled her in with what I knew, she told me what she knew… I figured you wouldn’t have a lot of uh… time, I guess, to see her. So I picked her up and brought her to you, instead.”

 Shepard felt a rush of fear slide up his spine and into the back of his skull, closing ever so gently against the base. If Aria found out, both he and Jack would be goners.

_When are you going to let her go, Shepard? She doesn’t control you or Jack. Just enjoy the fucking moment._

 Easing himself into a thank-you kiss, Shepard kept their lips pressed together until the fear subsided and all that was left was simple _happiness_. Jack was alive—Jack was healthy and alive and excited to see him. There were no accusations of betrayal, no real venom in her eyes or her words. She wanted to see him just as badly as he wanted to see her.

 “Thank you,” Shepard said when they broke apart.

 “You’re welcome,” Kaidan said, rubbing their noses together. Pulling away he slapped Shepard’s ass playfully. “Now go and chat with her. I’ve got some articles to catch up on.”

 You could take Kaidan out of the university, but you couldn’t take the university work away from Kaidan.

 Returning to the kitchen, Shepard arrived just in time to see Jack finishing off his pancakes _and_ orange juice. His wheelchair sat idly by next to the counter, and Shepard briefly hesitated before grabbing it and sitting down with a sigh. Jack didn’t pay it any mind, which suited Shepard just fine.

 “Did your ‘dude’ make these?” Jack asked, pointing to the vestiges of pancake.

 Shepard nodded.

 “Damn. You really did luck out.”

 Standing, she approached the windows, touching the glass with carefulness that Shepard hadn’t know Jack possessed. She looked down at the harbour with a certain amount of curiosity—eyes open and mouth slightly slack. Shepard remembered that awe; remembered feeling so totally out of place in Kaidan’s _kitchen_ of all places. Kaidan’s world had been so foreign back then.

 It still was, to some extent.

 But watching Jack hit it home to Shepard just how comfortable he’d become in Kaidan’s world; how he’d changed the last year in ways he hadn’t really realized until now. He wasn’t like Jack any more—wasn’t like Kaidan, either. He was his own weird mix of the Eastside and of Yaletown; of the destitute and the privileged.

 He was fucking lucky, was what he was.

 Jack noted Shepard’s gaze and quickly dropped her hand, features schooling themselves back into slight disgust.

 “So I guess this is where all those lawyer-type druggies we sell to go to live, eh?” she said, snorting.

 “This is actually where the university student druggies hang out,” he said, rolling himself next to Jack.

 “The lawyers are over there,” Shepard continued, pointing across the bay.

 Sighing, Jack turned around and leaned against the window, blocking Shepard’s view of the bay. “So this is your new life, huh?”

 “Guess so,” Shepard said, gripping the bars on his wheels. “I mean, Aria kicked me out, I can’t go back to the Eastside, and Kaidan is… well, Kaidan is here. So… yeah, guess this is it.”

 Jack sighed heavily once more, and kicked the footrest on Shepard’s chair. “Don’t look so excited, Shepard. What, the penthouse apartment not quite to your liking? Is it missing a pool or something? Does Kaidan have a small dick?”

 Shepard quirked a brow and pushed his chair a little ways back, far from Jack’s kicking feet.

 “What the fuck are you on about, Jack?”

 “Look at you,” she began, throwing her hands up, “you look like someone just said you have cancer of the ass and you’re going to die in two days. This is what you’ve always wanted, Shepard—a life outside of the shithole we call home. And now you’ve got it, so what’s your fucking problem?”

 Shepard was about to come up with some snappy retort about the ass cancer line, but shut his mouth as she continued. Jack always had a way of making Shepard confront his feelings, her no-bullshit approach to life often times bludgeoning Shepard into submission. Any time he tried to come up with ways to excuse what he was doing, or how he was feeling, it was knocked down and stepped on by Jack, who wouldn’t sit through a longwinded lie.

 Still, Shepard at least had to try and hide his feelings…

 “It’s nothing—I’m fine. I’m happy and… happy. Totally fucking happy. I’m just tired—” “

 Jack kicked his wheelchair again—harder.

 “Stop kicking me!”

 Jack kept kicking until Shepard was knocked back into the table.

 “Stop bullshitting me, Shepard.”

 “Stop—hey, stop kicking!”

 “Stop fucking bullshitting!”

 “You can’t make me!”

 “Then I’ll keep fucking kicking until—” “

 “Fine!” Shepard yelled, slamming on the breaks of his chair. Jack stopped, foot poised for another attack. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at Jack, jaw clenched.  “You really want me to tell you my _feelings_?”

 “Normally no,” Jack said, her foot still dangerously close, “but you’re moping so much I can’t stand being here, so get it all out so we can move on.”

 Shepard locked his jaw tighter, working it back and forth. He wasn’t moping. He was brooding; two totally different vibes. Still, a part of Shepard knew things needed to be said. There needed to be closure, and this might be the only chance he had for it.

 “Shepard, just fucking—”

 “I’m upset because this was our dream!” he said—practically yelled. “This is what we were supposed to achieve together! And yet I’m here and you’re not. I left you down in the Eastside, and as much as I want to fucking move on and enjoy it, I can’t because I know that I abandoned you. That I-I walked away and that you can’t. I have everything we dreamed of together—I have what we both wanted—and yet you don’t. And I feel guilty as shit because of it. And I feel like I shouldn’t enjoy this because you can’t. And I feel like a fucking idiot.”

 Jack’s foot dropped to the ground, hands going limp at her sides. Shepard kept their eyes locked despite the burning in his cheeks, and the overwhelming knowledge that he’d just spilled his guts out loudly in Kaidan’s kitchen for everyone to hear.

 There was an awkward pause filled only by the sound of blood rushing through Shepard’s head, before—

 “You really _are_ a fucking idiot, Shepard. A complete fucking idiot,” Jack said.

 She was laughing.

“You’re just so full of your angsty, bad-boy feelings that you can’t just let yourself be happy, can you?” she continued. “This life? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Shepard—a fucking chance none of us ever get. You need to take it and you need to fucking enjoy it, because if you don’t, I’ll come and beat the shit out of you, you hear me?”

 “But what about you?”

 “What about me? I’m an adult, Shepard, and quite fucking capable. I’ve never been tied down by anything in my life before, and I sure as shit ain’t starting now. You got your second chance and I’m just waiting to take mine. Besides, without your sorry ass dragging me down, I’ll be on my way to my own happily fucking ever after sooner than I’d planned.”

 “You… you have a plan?” Shepard said. It was difficult to untangle everything Jack had said, and so he went with the first thing that came to mind _._

_Jack’s got a plan…_

 “Sure,” she said, shrugging. “After you starting getting all weird a few months back, I made like a… a getaway plan. Alenko paid for the next six months of rent on the apartment, and after that I’m going to leave Vancouver. Aria’s got some contacts down in California, and I figured I’d go work down there. Get a deep tan, visit some tattoo parlors I’ve always wanted ink from, go swimming, enjoy the sun… maybe start up my own motorcycle gang. You know, usual shit.”

 “And you’re happy staying in Omega?” Shepard asked carefully.

 “Why not? I didn’t piss Aria off like you did, and my criminal record doesn’t keep me from crossing the border—unlike some people. So yeah… I’m happy. Or as fucking happy as I’ll ever be. And if I wanna leave, then I leave. Aria knows I’m just a limited time offer, anyways.”

 Shepard’s brain was having trouble keeping up with the influx of information, but he was coming to one very solid, very abrupt realization:

 He was free. Jack was free. They were both well and truly free. He didn’t have to feel guilty—in fact, he was being told _not_ to. He’d never admit it aloud, but Jack was right; this new lease on life he’d been given was truly a gift. He was the one who was looking for the catch when there was none.

 Sometimes good shit did happen to people like him. Sometimes it was as simple as just taking it.

 The freedom he sought wasn’t from Aria, or Omega, not from the police nor the streets of Vancouver. He needed it from his best friend and sister; from the woman who had been the one to keep him afloat until she could pass him off to Kaidan—Kaidan who had made him stand up for himself; made him realize he was more than the gang life he lived, and that he was worth that second chance.

 “I’m going to be fine, Shepard. I’ve always been fine,” Jack continued, her voice oddly soft.  “And besides… you really think I’m not going to keep in contact with you? If Aria thinks she can keep me from Skyping you then she’s got another thing coming.”

 Shepard smiled and ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. There was a distinct tingling sensation working its way through his body, dispelling the sickening, black matted tangles of guilt.

 “Besides,” Jack began as she passed Shepard on her way to the fridge, “even if I did want this life you got, Kaidan isn’t my type. He’d break too easy.”

 Shepard snorted. Looking up he gazed out across the bay, watching the yachts as they bobbed up and down on the windy waves, just waiting to be untied and let out into the wider ocean.

“Hey Alenko!” Jack yelled.

 “Yeah?” Kaidan replied, voice closer than Shepard had expected.

 “You mind if I finish off your expensive as shit beer?”

 “Not at all,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard felt a warm hand on the back of his neck, and reached up to cover Kaidan’s hand with his own.

 “What are you thinking about?” Kaidan asked, fingers curling slightly, squeezing Shepard’s shoulder.

 Shepard looked up at Kaidan, admiring the flecks of grey on his temples and the warm richness of his eyes. Reaching up he coaxed him down for a kiss, soaking in the simple press of lips against his, secure in the knowledge that Kaidan wasn’t going anywhere.

 Secure in the knowledge that he deserved him.

 When they parted Kaidan stayed hunched over, cheek pressed against Shepard’s temple, rough beard scratching his skin pleasantly. Tomorrow Kaidan had an appointment with his doctor, and next week Shepard with his own. In the weeks and months coming up there would be a lot of work to do—loose ends to sew up with damaged, fumbling hands. But Shepard didn’t think about that in that moment.

 Shepard just allowed himself some room to breathe.

 “Think we could go boating one day? I’ve never been on the ocean before,” he said, attention back on the water.

 Kaidan smiled, the press of his lips gliding along the shell of Shepard’s ear.

 “Anything you want, John.”

 Things looked a lot different depending on the perspective. For Shepard, things were beginning to look a lot like freedom.  
 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to AnnaRaven for the beta work!
> 
> And thanks again for reading! Last chapter should be out in early August at the latest :)


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by Dakotaliar
> 
> Please see the end of the chapter for all my gushing~

 A person could only run from their past for so long. For Shepard, it was a lifetime. For Kaidan? Four hundred and twenty-two days.

 The realization struck Kaidan in some backwater grocery store in the middle of nowhere Ontario.

 Dust from the country road they’d driven in on sat deep in Kaidan’s throat as he followed behind Shepard, the two collecting groceries for their next stop. It was a little campground just outside Thunder Bay, a place they had visited before—twice, actually—but found themselves enjoying due to its proximity to Lake Superior.

 It reminded Kaidan a little of the Pacific. Shepard just liked the water.

 “You think they’ve got proper bratwurst here?” Kaidan asked. He didn’t relish another week of shitty, cheap hotdogs that came packaged in an industrial square, but he’d make do if need be.

 Shepard turned, hands wrapped around the handles of the already stuffed basket. A small smirk spread across his features, lazy and cheeky.

 “If you ever need a bratwurst I’ve got one right here.” He waggled his eyebrows a little, the tops disappearing under the edge of his beanie.

 Kaidan smiled and rolled his eyes, a ‘yeah, yeah’ slipping past. He was about to reply with some pithy retort, but paused his pretend exasperation when black aluminum and bright red packaging caught his eye. Hanging from one of the shelves in the snack aisle was a collection of Jiffy Pop, their long handles dangling them precariously above the chips and dips. None appeared to have been purchased, and Kaidan wouldn’t have been surprised if someone told him they’d been there since Canada was granted her independence.

 There wasn’t anything unique about them—they’d seen numerous pans of Jiffy Pop during their travels, and even bought one in Saskatchewan after Shepard complained enough times. Kaidan warned him that the popcorn was questionable at best— _if_ they could even successfully pop it without burning the kernels. But Shepard pouted and Kaidan relented, and the two did their best to cook the corn over the electric stove in their re-purposed camper van.

 Shepard never asked for Jiffy Pop again.

 But for some reason, in this particular situation, in this particular grocery store, Kaidan was reminded of an incident that occurred when he was a kid. It involved his dad with a flaming Jiffy Pop packet, his mother with a bucket of water filled with trout, and Kaidan, five years old and equal parts terrified and entertained, watching from a distance.

 It was in that moment—in that particular moment—that Kaidan found he missed his mother and his father.

 He missed Vancouver.

 And he wanted to go home.

XX

 Shaving was a luxury after they began their Canada-wide road-trip.

 When they first started planning their adventure, maps spread out across their apartment floor, lists after lists of things to buy stuck to the walls, and laptops open with transportation sales listings, Kaidan had debated with Shepard about getting a camper versus a tent. They were going to be travelling for months—maybe even years—and a tent would get really old, really fast. Shepard had dug his heels in for a time, insisting that it wasn’t camping if they just hid out in a van all the time, away from the bugs and the smoke and the poke of pine needles.

 But eventually they compromised.

 Kaidan had found a listing for an old camper van that had been repurposed. It was still basic in its amenities—a stove, cupboards, and a little sitting area took up the front, while in the back a giant bed rested, with further storage underneath and above. Kaidan had fallen in love with the rustic quality of the van, the wood paneling and the plaid wool blankets luring him in. Shepard, meanwhile, had fallen in love with the ‘hipster’ beaver skull stuck on the dashboard.

 They named it the Beaver Wagon (mostly Shepard’s choice and not Kaidan’s), stuffed it full of everything they would need, and drove off from Vancouver in a cloud of diesel exhaust with no clue when they’d be back.

 It was their get-away-from-everything trip. It was Kaidan’s graduation present and Shepard’s escape from Vancouver. It was their freedom.

 But camping lacked for easily accessible hot water. Most of the sites they stopped at had shower facilities, but many lacked both privacy and hot water, and they found themselves washing and fleeing the area as quickly as possible. A few times they stayed at hotels over the winter where they’d take the time to pamper themselves, shaving and enjoying long bubble baths together, the two tangled up with one another as they hid from the East Coast blizzards.

 But eventually Kaidan gave up. He grew out a beard and called it a day, embracing the rugged look. Shepard continued to boil water and shave for a few more months after Kaidan but eventually he too gave in, and ended up keeping a tightly trimmed beard to match Kaidan’s bushier one.

 Bushy beards joined the endless beaver punning.

 It wasn’t all unpleasant. Lying in bed with Shepard on top of him, their legs tangled and shirts rumpled, Kaidan tilted his head to the side and enjoyed the rub of Shepard’s stubble against his neck, kiss-bruised lips parted in a soft moan as broad hands gripped his hips and held him in place as they rocked together.

 It was a slow, lazy afternoon make out session—a reprieve from the buzzing of flies and the screech of the children in the campsite over. The inside of the van was almost too hot, the spring air trapping itself in with them as they lay on top of the blankets, but Kaidan didn’t care, and neither did Shepard.

 Raising his head from Kaidan’s neck, Shepard shot Kaidan a small smile before meeting him for another kiss, open mouthed and unhurried. Kaidan could feel Shepard’s hardening length against his thigh, but Shepard was making no indication that he needed to move things along. In fact, he was keeping the pace maddeningly slow.

 Kaidan loved it.

 But the pace allowed for Kaidan’s mind to wander. First he thought about Shepard in his entirety—from the rub of his stubble to his calloused fingertips that danced across his belly. Kaidan thought about Shepard’s husky moans and deep, short chuckles any time their noses bumped. He then thought about Shepard’s dorky jokes in the grocery store, and how pleased he’d seemed that Kaidan had genuinely laughed at a few of them, even if he’d heard them before.

 But then Kaidan thought of Jiffy Pop. He thought of the sharp scent of the Pacific Ocean; he thought of the rainy Vancouver skyline; he thought about the ease by which he walked the streets, with no need for a map or a GPS. And then he thought of his mother’s smile and her frizzy hair that got in the way whenever they hugged. He thought of his father and the last glass of whiskey they shared together before he left. He thought of Liara and Tali and Ashley, of Miranda and Professor Mordin.

 He thought of them and found a tightness in his chest that not even Shepard’s soothing touch could abate.

 The kisses stopped soon after, and Kaidan opened his eyes to see Shepard peering down at him, a hesitant smile on his lips.

 “What are you thinking about?” Shepard asked.

 “My mum,” he answered without thinking.

 Shepard paused, and Kaidan could practically feel his dick shrink tight into his body.

 “That uh… that came out wrong, didn’t it,” Kaidan mumbled.

 Shepard nodded. “Yeah, just a little.”

 There was no way they could go back to what they were doing before. No way in hell. Kaidan would be thinking even more about his mum because that was exactly what he _didn’t_ want to think about, and Shepard was still looking down at Kaidan a bit like how he looked at kale—unsure, a little disgusted, and kind of scared.

 “You going to explain or are we just going to pretend you didn’t just say… that,” Shepard asked. He’d already rolled off of Kaidan, effectively ending whatever had started.

 He lay down next to Kaidan on the bed, arm tucked up behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Kaidan looked down as the hem of Shepard’s shirt lifted, exposing his stomach and treasure trail. A pang of regret spiked through Kaidan, but he didn’t try and regain the mood he’d ruined with his oedipal comment.

 “So… thinking about your mum?” Shepard asked after a time.

 “More thinking about home,” Kaidan said quietly.

 “Vancouver.” It wasn’t a question.

 “Yeah. Vancouver.”

 They didn’t talk about Vancouver a lot. The first few months they had been gone, Kaidan saw no real reason to long for the city he’d spent most of his life in. But as the months wore on and they reached the one year mark, Kaidan had brought up the idea of going back to the West Coast—just for a few days, nothing permanent. Shepard had shut down. He just looked at Kaidan before stepping out of the camper. He spent the rest of the night brooding over a campfire with a beer in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other, pretending that he wasn’t running from his past.

 Kaidan didn’t bring up the idea again.

 But it was past the one year mark. They had spent four hundred and twenty-two days away from the West Coast—away from the place they had both called home. Away from a place Kaidan _still_ called home.

 Kaidan had been supportive of the idea to get away for a while; to find themselves out from under the shadows of the Lions. But they had been gone a long time—a really long time—and Kaidan was beginning to wonder if Shepard was ever going to confront the last of his ghosts. If Shepard was ever going to move on, or just keep running.

 He supposed he could just ask.

 “Hey, John.”

 Shepard turned his head, stern features locking him in place. Dust motes danced above in the sunlight that streamed in, casting Shepard in a warm glow. But his eyes were distant. He knew what Kaidan was about to ask.

 Kaidan pressed ahead.

 “Do you ever think about maybe going back? To Vancouver?”

 “Do you?” Shepard asked. He wasn’t giving anything away. He was as tight-lipped and guarded as the day Kaidan first met him.

 Kaidan supposed a part of Shepard would always be that twenty-four year old kid, locked away in his own emotions and thoughts, closed off from Kaidan, that twenty-seven year old in the sweater vest with too much money and time on his hands.

 He had opened up a lot over the years; bared his soul to Kaidan and offered him his heart—a heart that Kaidan would cherish and protect.

 But he wouldn’t coddle.

 “Yeah. Yeah, I do, actually,” he admitted.

 Shepard nodded. “And you want to go back.”

 He went back to staring at the ceiling.

 Kaidan could still backtrack. He could still go back and pretend that he was still happy traveling; like he was okay with avoiding everything, and instead bask once more in the love and sense of adventure he felt any time Shepard so much as looked at him.

 But he couldn’t do that anymore.

 “Yeah… yeah, I think it’s time we head back,” Kaidan replied. “I think… I think we’re both ready.”

 Shepard didn’t say anything. Instead he sat up, slipped off the bed, and left the camper.

 It was too light out to have a fire and brood, so instead Kaidan found Shepard standing near a river, cigarette between his lips and flat stones in his hands. He skipped rock after rock for hour after hour. He didn’t talk to Kaidan until he returned just as the sun had set and his dinner had gone cold.

 “When do we leave?” he simply asked.

XX

Returning home elicited a range of emotions in Kaidan. The closer they got to British Columbia the more trepidation he felt at the prospect of ending what they had begun. While it had been almost a year and a half since they’d first set out on their journey, it felt like they had just pulled out of the driveway of his parents’ house, their list of things to see and do with not a single checkmark next to them. But looking down at their list, crumpled and slightly torn, checkmark after checkmark lined the sides—some goals with two or three checks next to them— it hit home to Kaidan just how long they’d be gone.

 And that’s when the excitement kicked in. He was going home; he was going to smell the salt of the ocean mixed in with the bloom of roses and cherry blossoms; taste proper sushi and drink his own slow-drip coffee from his favourite press; he’d sit on his favourite chair, sleep in his childhood bed, and eat a home-cooked meal that didn’t require messing around with a fire or an electric stove that didn’t heat evenly.

 He was going home, and almost nothing could kill that buzz.

 Almost.

 Shepard spent the last week of their trip staring out windows and smoking a pack of cigarettes a day, jaw clenched, legs bouncing, and hands rubbing idly at the scars that served as a reminder. He avoided any discussions about Vancouver and returning home, instead redirecting the discussion toward food or sex or what would win in a fight: a badger or a wolverine. He avoided; he deflected; but he never shut Kaidan out.

 Just shut him up with kisses and food, and the occasional bad pun.

 The day they came back to Vancouver Kaidan let Shepard drive. He didn’t say anything when they missed the first few exits, or when they finally turned into the city only to take the longest possible route to his parents’ neighborhood. Instead he stared out the window, comforted by the familiarity but surprised by how so little had changed.

_It’s been almost two years and yet Mr. Matheson hasn’t taken his Santa down from his roof…_

_A_ s they pulled into the driveway of his parents’ place Kaidan felt like a little kid again, returning from camp and ready to catch up with his friends whom he’d missed over the summer. Chancing a glance at Shepard, he noted almost the exact opposite expression on his face.

 He looked like a man who had just come home from the war, cheeks sunken in and eyes distant as he looked _through_ everything before him and toward whatever lay up ahead.

 Toward the Eastside.

 “John?”

 Shepard blinked once, twice, a third time before he dropped his hand from the steering wheel and pulled the keys from the ignition. The door to the house opened, and Kaidan saw his mother poke her head out, frizzy hair blowing in the gentle, persistent ocean breeze.

 “John,” Kaidan repeated.

 “You go on ahead,” Shepard mumbled.

 Kaidan hesitated before nodding. Shepard would come in in his own time. His fussing wouldn’t help.

 Jumping out of the car he rushed up to meet his mother, chest tight with emotion. She grabbed him in a huge hug, lavender perfume that was so achingly familiar overwhelming his senses. Wrapping his arms tight around her, he held on until he was sure she wasn’t just a dream.

 “You look good,” he said, still hugging her.

 “You haven’t even looked at me properly,” she replied. She didn’t let go either.

 Eventually the sight of his father in the doorway relaxed his grip, and his mother soon let him go. She was tearing up as she patted his cheek, petting his beard a little before tugging the tips.

 “You’re so rugged and manly,” she said.

 His father rolled his eyes and rested his hand on her shoulder.

 “He’s a grown man, dear.”

 “I just forgot how grown,” she replied.

 “Hey, Dad,” Kaidan said. Their hug was short-lived but reassuring, and Kaidan couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

 He was home. He was home in front of a house he recognized, in a neighborhood he’d lived in until he was eighteen, with peony blossoms the size of his head flourishing all around. He was _home_.

 “Is John okay?” his mother asked quietly.

 Kaidan turned to see Shepard had at least made it out of the van, but had done little else in terms of walking toward the house. He stayed next to the door, hands shoved in his pockets, another cigarette between his lips as he squinted down the road.

 The last year and a half Kaidan had seen the tightness in Shepard’s shoulders dissipate. His guarded, hunched over stance had become relaxed and confident, and the hyper vigilance only came out now and again, like when they’d walk the busy streets of Toronto or Calgary; like when it felt like they were back in Vancouver.

 But that guardedness was back. That scared, defensive posture cloaked him once more, and Shepard looked like he was waiting for something to happen; like he was waiting to be hurt again. He reached for a knife that was no longer there, and scanned for an enemy that no longer cared about who he was.

 He was reliving his trauma. Where Kaidan smelled begonias and felt the refreshing breeze from the crisp ocean air, Shepard smelled only blood and felt only death.

 But it wasn’t a mistake to come back. As much as it pained Kaidan to see Shepard looking like the scared kid on the streets with nothing left to lose, he knew that wasn’t who Shepard was now. What he was looking at wasn’t Shepard, and the only way Shepard was going to realize that was to come back to the place that created those nasty thoughts in the first place.

 “He’ll be fine,” Kaidan said, turning back to his parents. “He just needs some space.”

 He smiled tightly. His mother frowned, but his father just shrugged.

 “We’re having grilled salmon for dinner—he’ll come in,” his father said, and he led Kaidan up the familiar steps of a familiar home.

XX

 “You know when I said that I was free? That I was in control of my life?”

 Kaidan rolled over, shoulder bumping Shepard’s in the dark. It was late but it seemed neither could sleep. The quiet stillness of his parents’ house was unfamiliar to both of them, days and days spent surrounded by the clatter of those around them conditioning them to find comfort in the din.

 “Yeah,” he mumbled.

 “Easier said than fucking done.”

 Kaidan didn’t say anything. Instead he tugged Shepard closer, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding on to him tight.

 “I never wanted to come back here,” Shepard said after a time, voice muffled by the press of pillows against his lips. “I knew I’d have to, but I just… I thought I’d have worked out more of… of whatever the fuck I’m feeling. But I haven’t. Just seeing the downtown from up here makes me… makes me feel fucking sick. Makes me feel like I’m not in control of my life like I thought I was. Makes me sca—”

 He cut himself off and fell silent.

 Kaidan didn’t know what to say; didn’t know if saying anything would help. He didn’t know if saying something was what Shepard was even looking for. He couldn’t just gloss over Shepard’s trauma, but he also knew that he couldn’t continue to coddle him about it, either. He needed to move on—he needed to become his own man. And Kaidan knew he could do it.

 He just wasn’t sure how.

 “Did you want some advice, or did you just want to talk it out?” Kaidan asked.

 Shepard sighed and leaned back into Kaidan’s embrace.

 “I just… I want you to hold me for a little bit. Please.”

 “Sure thing, dude.”

 Shepard chuckled.

 It was a start.

XX

 “You sure him going to the Eastside is a good idea?”

 “Nope.”

 “But he’s going anyways.”

 “Yeah… guess so.”

 Kaidan’s father pushed his lunch plate away and rubbed his stomach. “Bad idea.”

 “Yep,” Kaidan said.

 After a few days of pretending to be somewhat invested in what was going on around him, Shepard gave up on his piss-poor acting job and told Kaidan that he was going to visit Garrus at his bar down in the Downtown Eastside. They both knew it was a stupid idea; there was the possibility that Shepard would return with either a shank in his side or a warrant on his head. But the more likely possibility was that he’d come back even more pissed off and cagey than before. Kaidan wasn’t sure which he feared more.

 Shepard had made good on his word with Aria all those years ago, and hadn’t set foot in the Eastside in four years. But it seemed their trip away from the city had just made him stupid instead of reflective, and he’d charged down the street with his old leather jacket on, replaying his prior life like he was Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.

 Kaidan wasn’t surprised his father brought up Shepard’s decision to go downtown, but he was surprised by the genuine concern in his eyes as he stared across the table at him.

 His father and Shepard had a… polite relationship with one another. So long as Shepard didn’t hurt Kaidan, commit any felonies, or bring Cariboo to a backyard BBQ, they were alright. Beyond that the two rarely interacted beyond a few grunts and a shared beer now and again. It was more than Kaidan could have asked for, but that didn’t stop his mother from lamenting what she called ‘male emotional constipation.’

 “Your boy hasn’t moved on at all, has he?” he asked.

 Kaidan shrugged. “If you count running away from everything as moving on…”

 His father snorted.

 “He didn’t want to come back,” Kaidan continued. Leaning on the table, he linked his hands together and stared down at the patterned tablecloth. “I thought maybe if we came back he’d realize that he has moved on and… I don’t know, that he’s in control of his life? You know? But he’s just reverted back to wherever we left off. Maybe even worse than before.”

 “He seemed fine when you two left for your trip.”

 “Probably because he didn’t know any different. I think the trip just made him realize how much he hates being here.” Kaidan sighed and sat back in his chair. “I’m trying to just stay out of his way and let him work it through at his own pace, but… his own pace is zero. It’s nothing. He’s not moving forward, despite what he tries to tell me.”

 “You can’t just make him get over whatever the hell he’s going through,” his father said.

 “Yeah, I know.”

 “But maybe you can show him Vancouver isn’t as bad as he remembers it being.” His father stood and collected the plates and glasses.

 “After all,” he continued over his shoulder, “he did meet and defile my only child here.”

XX

 It was early evening when Shepard returned, although he didn’t tell anyone. Instead Kaidan found him pacing around in the backyard when he’d gone to refill the bird feeder. Cigarette butts littered the pristine lawn, and Kaidan smelt the stench of strong liquor emanating from the hunched over figure.

 “What the he—what are you doing?” Kaidan asked, catching himself on the ‘hell’. He didn’t want to be aggressive despite the annoyance that welled up in him.

 “I went to the site,” Shepard said. He didn’t look at Kaidan, but he’d stopped his pacing.

 “You went to… the site?”

 “To where I got shot—to where I almost died,” Shepard said loudly. He turned to look at Kaidan, haunted blue eyes sunken deep in his skull staring hard at him.

 “Why?” Kaidan asked as calmly as he could.

 Kaidan had to hear why before he got frustrated—had to hear Shepard’s bullshit reasoning before he could tell him how stupid he was being.

 “Because I wanted to see it. I wanted to prove to myself that it doesn’t affect me anymore—that this stupid fucking city has no power over me or my life anymore,” Shepard practically yelled.

 He clenched his jaw and threw the cigarette down to the ground, lips pursed tight.

 “And?”

 He breathed hard through his nose. “It didn’t fucking work.”

 Kaidan clenched his own jaw and stared at Shepard. He was now refusing to make eye contact with Kaidan, preferring to glare at the lawn he’d just ruined.

 Kaidan got the trauma; he understood the grief; he joined in the frustration, but he’d be damned if he’d let Shepard hurt himself for no good reason. Shepard had gone to relive his trauma knowing full well it wouldn’t help in in any way—he was pulling and tugging at the wound because it was easier than letting it heal. The pain and frustration had become an almost necessary part of Shepard’s existence. It was easier for him to focus on the trauma than on the good. It was easier for Shepard to live in the past because it was what he knew. The future was scary and so he avoided it; he’d avoided it for the last four years of their lives together, and he seemed intent on continuing down that path.

 Kaidan was sick of it.

 “Stamp out that cigarette before you start a fire in my parents’ backyard. We’re going for a walk,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard glanced up from the ground. “What?”

Kaidan didn’t reply and just turned around, heading to the front of the house. Shepard’s footfalls followed soon after.

 Kaidan led him down the streets of his old neighborhood, pace steady and gaze locked forward. Shepard kept up but stayed hunched over, pouting like a teenager who knew he’d just fucked up. A part of Kaidan thought maybe he was being too harsh—too flippant—but the other part knew that this intervention was needed. It was for the best.

 Still, as they approached their destination, Kaidan took Shepard’s hand in his own as a peace offering, one Shepard readily accepted.

 It was a half hour walk of pure silence, but once they arrived much of Kaidan’s initial anger had dissipated. The passion hadn’t, however.

 “What are we doing in this neighborhood?” Shepard asked.

 Kaidan swung him around so he was facing him, the two stood outside a large house close to the UBC campus.

 “When I was thirteen I was diagnosed with chemo brain,” Kaidan began. “I’d just survived cancer and been given the all clear—been told I could start my life again—when I started to struggle with simple things. I didn’t read as fast as the other kids in my class could, couldn’t communicate as well as they did. I didn’t remember things like my mum’s birthday or what time I was supposed to go to tennis practice. Do you know how scary that is, John? Do you know how angry I was?”

 “Really angry,” Shepard mumbled.

 “I was damn angry! I thought I could move on, only to have my body fail me again. It was like someone had dangled my future in front of my face and then snatched it away when I tried to grab for it. And regaining that future? It took work. It took a lot of work. I had to struggle through junior high just to keep up with the grade average, but by the time I got to high school I was top of the class along with Liara. And it wasn’t because I got better—I still struggle sometimes even as an adult—it was because I was determined to have the future I’d always seen for myself. It was because I was determined to take what I wanted—and damn the hurdles. I worked through it, John. I worked _through it_.

 “And I’m not special. I’m not a one-off or whatever. I just remembered I was strong, and that I could do it. I was in control of my destiny. And you are too, John. You’re a fighter, remember? You’re a stubborn headstrong guy, and you’re not going to let this beat you. You’re _not_ giving up, okay?”

 Kaidan didn’t often give speeches. He fumbled and he got sweaty palms, and he mixed up his cue cards, both physical and metaphorical. But he got it right when it mattered; he knew when to strangle the chemo brain and the migraine fog and the embarrassment into submission when it really mattered.

 And right now it mattered a hell of a lot.

 Shepard didn’t say anything for a while. He looked over Kaidan’s shoulder and swallowed a few times, lost in thought. Eventually he returned to the present, eyes glassy from unshed tears.

 “I don’t know if I’m as strong as you, K.”

 “Well I do.”

 Shepard chuckled and brushed away the tears with force. “Lend me some of that confidence, huh?”

 “Don’t have to, because I know it’s already in you,” Kaidan said.

 Shepard laughed again and gently punched Kaidan’s shoulder.

 “You sound like one of those twats from those stupid inspirational movies from the nineties.”

 Kaidan smiled. “I can live with that if this whole speech actually works.”

 Sobering, Kaidan reached up and cupped the back of Shepard’s head, bringing him in for a hug. Shepard collapsed into his embrace, hands grabbing on to the back of his shirt with force.

 “You’ve got to stop running, John. You’ve gotta be brave and just… just face it. Head on. And be ready when that opportunity to move on comes around. Take control of your future and just… enjoy it.”

 “I’m scared,” Shepard mumbled.

 “Yeah, I was too. But scared can be good, so long as it doesn’t stop you.”

 Shepard lifted his head and coughed away the tears. Nodding, he brushed his hand across his eyes again, and cleared his throat. Kaidan noted the blush on his cheeks, and couldn’t help but smile again.

 He’d said his peace; given Shepard the good ol’ pep talk. It was all he could do. That, and remind him…

 “Remember this house?” Kaidan asked, nodding his head toward the towering building.

 “Wasn’t it in Jumanji?”

 “No. Well… maybe? But no, take another look.”

 Shepard did. Kaidan watched as realization dawned across his face.

 “It’s the house where we first met,” he said confidently.

 “Yeah, it is.”

 Kaidan’s stomach did a little flip-flop.

_He remembers…_

“God, I was such a fucking embarrassment that night. Strutting around like a fucking punk, thinking I was hot shit.”

 “Well, you were,” Kaidan said. “I mean hot… and also a little bit of a punk.”

 Shepard punched Kaidan’s arm again. “Says the guy in a sweater vest.”

 “You still had sex with me.”

 “It’s a good look on you,” Shepard said. He smiled and moved closer to Kaidan, their hips knocking together. Ducking his head, he looked up at Kaidan through thick lashes. “I remember seeing you for the first time. You were standing over by the chip table with Ashley. She kept almost hitting you with her arm as she mimed playing hockey. And you just watched her with that cute smile of yours, wearing your sweater vest, holding on to your stupid craft beer, totally at ease… then you turned around and I saw your ass and thought ‘damn, I need to eat that at least once’.”

 Kaidan chuckled and rolled his eyes. Of course.

 But then Shepard continued. “And then I thought you were out of my league.”

 Kaidan quirked a brow. “Really? Me? Out of _your_ league?”

 “Oh c’mon, K. You were this rich, smart, successful guy at a university party, standing in the room like you were meant to be there—like people _wanted_ you to be there. Meanwhile I was crashing the party with Garrus, wearing my shitty leather jacket wondering when someone was going to try and kick me out.”

 “And yet you still approached me,” Kaidan said, angling Shepard’s chin up.

 Shepard shrugged. “A guy’s gotta try, right?”

 “Worked in your favour.”

 “Yeah, I guess it did.”

 They kissed—slow and steady and familiar. Total opposite from their first one years ago.

 No less special, though.

 “Why’d you take me here?” Shepard asked when they parted. He kept their lips close, and Kaidan nuzzled their noses together.

 “To remind you that this city isn’t all bad. It’s where we first met, after all.”

 Shepard kissed Kaidan again.

XX

 Kaidan stared out the kitchen window, hands pink from scrubbing the roasting pan. Outside Shepard and his father sat a respectable distance from one another, legs spread out and beers in hand, their backs to Kaidan. Smoke curled up between them—a cigarette in Shepard’s mouth, a cigar in his father’s.  They looked out into the backyard, watching the sun slowly dip behind the mountains in the distance.

 Kaidan was pretty sure he was dreaming the image up, and didn’t really care to investigate lest he be right. So he just stood and admired, wondering what they were talking about.

 If they were actually talking at all.

 Eventually Kaidan’s curiosity got the better of him, and he dried his hands and stepped out of the back, shutting the porch door gently.

 His father turned at the noise, and Kaidan watched with some regret as he stood up with his finished beer and headed back inside.

 He patted Kaidan’s shoulder as he passed, but said nothing.

 “Hey,” Kaidan said, approaching Shepard. Taking his father’s seat, he spread his legs and struck the same pose his father had taken.

 Shepard tipped his beer at Kaidan.

 “Hey.”

 Kaidan linked his hands together. He felt nervous all of a sudden, but wasn’t sure why.

 “What were you up to?”

 “Just chatting with your dad,” Shepard said. He sat up a little straighter and finished off his cigarette.

 “About what?”

 “Nothing much. Just… about futures and shit.” He shrugged.

 They sat in comfortable silence. Robins sang in the trees, a bee buzzed by, and the honk of a horn down the street punctuated the peace now and again.

 Finally, Shepard spoke.

 “So uh… K?”

 “Yeah?”

 “You want to get married?”

 Kaidan smiled slowly and looked over at Shepard.

 Shepard sipped his beer and looked back at Kaidan, cheeks flushed but face otherwise unreadable.

 “Just taking control of your destiny, eh? Moving on?” he asked, surprised at how level his voice was. He felt like he was going to pass out from the beating of his heart against his chest.

 Shepard shrugged again. “Something like that, yeah.”

 Kaidan nodded and ducked his head, unable to stop from chuckling. He still thought he was going to pass out.

 “Yeah, John… I’ll marry you.”

 Shepard smiled.

 “Cool.”

 “Cool.”

 A pause, before.

 “Love you, K.”

 “Love you too, Shep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END!
> 
> I don't want to get too gushy but that's kind of impossible because a) it's me and I'm a gushy person and b) this is a big moment for all of us! Because this story isn't just mine-- it's all your guys' too. Without your support and enthusiasm, your theories and your reactions, this story wouldn't be what it is today. It is through your guys' passion that I was able to make this story what it is, and I cannot thank you enough for everything you've done. This story was written out of a silly joke between a friend of mine and myself, but became something else entirely once I started working on it. I've received messages telling me this story changed their views on poverty and drug addiction, and the issues that Canadians and Vancouverites face when it comes to these matters, and I can't thank you enough for this. To change someone's view as a writer is incredible. Thank you. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this story, and I really am sad to see it finished. But I'm also really proud of the fact that I did get it done, and I'm so grateful that you've all stuck with it. Whether you're a new reader or been with it since chapter one, I thank you. You're all amazing. Honestly and truly, thank you. 
> 
> This isn't the end, however. I hope to write many more oneshots and drabbles set within this universe, and maybe even a small multi-chapter fanfiction if the mood (and the muse) strikes me. Unfortunately, it seems I wont be able to write a long multi-chapter fanfiction for the next year or so. As some of you may know, I've been working on my Masters in the Classics, and this coming year it will be time for me to work on my thesis in full, which means most of my writing time will be spent on that rather than on fanfiction. However, I do have plans to write a WWII Twin Shepard AU (mshenko and semi-shakarian) once I am done with my thesis, so keep an eye out for that! But as it stands, oneshots and drabbles is the most you'll probably see from me for the time being. I hope you stick around, regardless!
> 
> And finally, a big thank you to Anna, who took up the mantle of beta and edited the crap out of my sometimes messy writing. Thank you for making me look smarter than I actually am, and for negating any serious embarrassment. I am in your debt, and thank you for all your hard work. 
> 
> Thank you to Josh, whom without your encouragement and late-night chats, this story might not be done. Your encouragement, ideas, and jokes kept me going. Also, our talks of hairy Kaidan were a big motivator.
> 
> Thank you to Mallory, who helped me through the last part of this story, and who has supported me in everything I take on. You're incredible.
> 
> Thank you to Rosie. My IRL bro who motivates me to continue my creations, and who listens to my babbling when I'm trying to work through my writing. I'm lucky to have you as my writing partner, and I can't wait to see what you do with your original story.
> 
> And finally, thank you readers. I've said it again and again, but you're all amazing. You're lovely. You're inspiring. Thank you, thank you, thank you.


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